From every quarter we, Who bent the trembling knee And cowered or grovelled prostrate day and night,
An outcry in the bush below, A crash, and boughs that sway, And shouts of laughter let me know
The patriot from his walls of brass Is singing loudly as I pass; With fearless heart and open eyes,
Behind us lay the homely shore With youthful memories aureoled; A sky of dazzling blue before,
When my time is come to die, I would shun the decent gloom, Whispered word and weeping eye,