Up go the beautiful and world-watch'd stars, <br />Lifting the glory of America, <br />'Mong the red flags which gleam through masts <br />and spars <br />Crowded in gay magnificence, to-day, <br />Where three score years ago, none found their way, <br />Of all the ships which left old England's shore: <br />Up goes the starry flag, on waves which lay <br />In undiscover'd solitude, when o'er <br />America those stars first glanc'd from fields of gore! <br /> <br />In friendly beauty floats that free-fix'd flag <br />'Gainst England's glowing ensign! I could dream <br />Of times, when the wild bush, each uncouth crag, <br />And precipice, beside this haven-stream, <br />Shall yield to one vast city; and the gleam <br />Of new-born banners shall illumine it; <br />And these alike be foreign in the beam <br />Of Australasia's morning. Heaven admit <br />One patriot spirit here, and Freedom's fires are lit! <br /> <br />Not ever shall the exile's toil be all <br />To bring the harvest of this infant land; <br />The children of the buried exile shall <br />Behold a mother's beauty, in the bland <br />Aspect of Nature, on their native strand: <br />And Freedom then shall choose a dwelling here. <br />Oh! Happy epoch, when the 'great and grand,' <br />The memory of whose deeds mankind revere, <br />Number a Washington, from the world's Austral sphere.<br /><br />Sir Henry Parkes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stanzas-11/
