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datatime: 2022-12-08 14:59:37 Author:boQRNYyp

Who join with your lords to jar the chords of a bosom heroic, and

This magic of the whirl for South.

Who sees what tomb a white night built,

But now the North wind ceases,

A sightless heaven, a shaven land.

The winninger course than the rule of force, and the springs lured

A burly joy each creature swells

Breaks to the scene of hosts afoot,

Are they who point our pathway and sustain.

And speed the service of the nest;

To honour his race, this deed of grace, for the weak from the strong

The bitten buds dared not unfold:

And speed the service of the nest;

To see Life's formless offspring and subdue

To honour his race, this deed of grace, for the weak from the strong

And earth's green banner shakes.

This magic of the whirl for South.

The heavens are out in fleeces,

To see Life's formless offspring and subdue

That her sons over seas in a rally of praise may behold a thrice

'Tis the faltering friend, an inanimate land, may drag a great soul

by him shall be written,

A City clothed in snow and soot,

by him shall be written,

When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.

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