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Wake the strong chords of life to vibration.

Aye; right noble, in good sooth, seemed he battling for the truth,

When he poured the full tide of his scorn

Down upon the tyrant's track, like an Alpine cataract:

All! such men wait an Æon to be born.

So he stood before us then, one of God's eternal men,

Flashing eye, and hero mould of stature,

With a glory and a light circling round his brow of might,

That revealed his right royal kingly nature.

Lo! he leadeth on our bands, Freedom's banner in his hands,

Let us aid him, not with words, but doing;

With the marches of the brave, prayers of might that strike and save,

Not a slaving spirit's abject suing.

Thus in glory is he seen, tho' his years are yet but green,

The anointed as head of our nation;

For high Heaven hath decreed that a soul like his must lead,

Let us kneel, then, in deep adoration.

Oh! his mission is divine; dash down the Lotus wine—

Too long is your trancéd sleep abiding;

For by Him who gave us life, we shall conquer in the strife,