How distant my steps from the land of my birth.
But to thee, as thy lode-stars resplendently bum
In their clear depths of blue, with devotion I turn,
Bright Cross of the South! and beholding thee shine,
Scarce regret the loved land of the olive and vine.
Thou recallest the ages when first o’er the main
My fathers unfolded the ensign of Spain,
And planted their faith in the regions that see
Its unperishing symbol emblazon’d in thee.
How oft in their course o’er the oceans unknown,