DOWN IN AUSTRALIA.
BY GERALD MASSEY.
Quaff a cup and send a cheer up for the Old Land!
We have heard the Reapers shout,
For the Harvest going out,
With the smoke of battle closing round the bold Land;
And our message shall be hurled
Ringing right across the world,
There are true hearts beating for you in the Gold Land.
We are with you in your battles, brave and bold Land!
For the old ancestral tree
Striketh root beneath the sea,
And it beareth fruit of Freedom in the Gold Land!
We shall come, too, if you call,
We shall fight on if you fall;
Shakespere's land shall never be a bought and sold land....
O, a terror to the Tyrant is that bold Land!
He remembers how she stood,
With her raiment roll'd in blood,
When the tide of battle burst upon the Old Land;
And he looks with darkened face,
For he knows the hero race
Strike the Harp of Freedom--draw her sword with bold hand....
When the smoke of Battle rises from the Old Land
You shall see the Tyrant down!
You shall see her lifted crown
Wears another peerless jewel won with bold hand;
She shall thresh her foes like corn,
They shall eat the bread of scorn;
We will sing her song of triumph in the Gold Land.
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