Hear, hear, O ye na­tions, and hear­ing, obey
The cry from the past and the call of to­day;
Earth wea­ries and wastes with her fresh life out­poured,
The prey of the can­non, the spoil of the sword.

Lo, dawns the new era, trans­cend­ing the old,
The po­et’s rapt vi­sion, by pro­phet fore­told;
From war’s grim tra­di­tion it mak­eth ap­peal
To ser­vice of all in a world’s com­mon weal.

And then, O my coun­try, from ma­ny made one,
Last born of the na­tions, at morn­ing thy sun,
Arise to the place thou art giv­en to fill,
And lead the world-tri­umph of peace and good will.