The poem
"Like clouds o'er the South are the nations who reign On fair islands that we would command; But clouds that are darker and denser than these Have sailed from an Isle in the Northern Seas And rest on our Southern Land.
Low in dust is our Goddess of Liberty hurled At our feet, and the time is at hand, When we, the proud sons of the southern world, Beneath a proud banner of freedom unfurled And true to each other shall stand.
If e'er in the ranks of the Right we advance; Though our enemies come like a flood, We'll meet them like lions, aroused from our trance, And show that a streak of the Olden Romance Still runs in our commonplace blood.