by Charles Harpur
My Country, though rude yet, and wild, be thy nature,
This alone our proud love should beget and command:
There's noon in thy broad breast for Manhood's full stature,
And honest Endeavour's a lord in the land.
And though much of thy bounty, by aliens in feeling
Has been made upon heads the least worthy to fall,
Their reign is nigh past, and the wrong is fast healing,
And they wide arms encircle a home for us all.
And though pygmies high placed in our councils yet fool us,
In our woods there's a Giant upgrowing the while -
The Spirit of Liberty destined to rule us,
And cheer on the world from the great Austral Isle!
Last updated January 14, 2019