The land where the sun-birds sing,
Where the purple vine of the wined grape grows,
And the winters are bright with spring.
“We will write our names on the sea walls clear,
On the reedy rocks by the Bay;
And the legend leave of our young child here,
Then sail o’er the seas away.”
So back o’er the waves of the windy seas,
The child of their love they bear,
To dream of the mount and its sun-crowned trees