Enchantingly to us from times now wan:
Dim as an echo of paradise forlorn
That sleeps concealed within the heart of man.
Our spirit grown with chains in one scarce trusts too
That more than rumors could these tidings be,
That what in yonder distance dawns was true,
That we were once a nation of the free.
Thou didst appear within the tales of childlore
A shining fairy with a star above
Whene’er the grandsire read chronicles of yore;