1 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.

2 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.

3 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.