Classic Poem

Lord , by whose might the Heavens stand,
The Source from whence they came,
Who holdest nations in Thy hand,
And call'st the stars by name,
Thine ageless forces do not cease
To mould us as of yore —
The chiselling of the arts of peace,
The anvil-strokes of war.

Then bind our realms in brotherhood,
Firm laws and equal rights,
Let each uphold the Empire's good
In freedom that unites;
And make that speech whose thunders roll
Down the broad stream of time,
The harbinger from pole to pole
Of love and peace sublime.

Lord, turn the hearts of cowards who prate,
Afraid to dare or spend,
The doctrine of a narrower State
More easy to defend;
Not this the watchword of our sires
Who breathed with ocean's breath,
Not this our spirit's ancient fires
Which nought could quench but death.

Strong are we? Make us stronger yet;
Great? Make us greater far.
Our feet antarctic oceans fret,
Our crown the polar star;
Round Earth's wild coasts our batteries speak,
Our highway is the main,
We stand as guardian of the weak,
We burst the oppressor's chain.

Great God, uphold us in our task,
Keep pure and clean our rule,
Silence the honeyed words which mask
The wisdom of the fool
The pillars of the world are Thine;
Pour down Thy bounteous grace,
And make illustrious and divine
The sceptre of our race.