Sacred with blood of hero sires,
Spurn from its breast ignobler fires.
Keep on these shores where beauty reigns,
And vastness folds from peak to plains,
With room for all from hills to sea,
No shackled, helot tyranny.
Spurn from thy breast the bigot lie,
The smallness not of earth or sky.
Breed all thy sons brave stalwart men,
To meet the world as one to ten.