If to this soil to-day I pay no heed,
The future’s fertile fields may ne’er be sown.
The age of iron, of bronze, they are not now,
The bright-gemmed present is my golden age,
In which I think and live and love and do
What deeds are worth life’s brave and noble wage.
And finding in to-day my age of gold
To-morrow glows with promise and delight,
As if the happy isles oft dreamed of old
Were dawning now upon my blissful sight. (Text.)