Stand forth, O Daughter of the Sun,
Of all thy kin the fairest one,
It is thine hour of Jubilee.
Behold, the work our hands have done
Our hearts now offer unto thee.
Thy children call thee; O come forth,
Queen of the North!
Brow-bound with pearls and burnished gold
The East hath Queens of royal mould,
Sultanas, peerless in their pride,