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Of Ukaranga! swiftly they arrive;
Eager Ujiji pours excitedly
To give the strangers greeting—a black crowd,
Among dim huts and trees, with bearded grave,
Flowing-robed, turban'd Arabs, in the rear
Of England's great explorer, waiting now
To welcome his unknown deliverer.
How? 'tis the banner of America!
America saves England—mighty Child
Of mighty Mother, it is nobly done!
Join your two strong right hands for evermore,
And swear that none shall sever them anew!
Then tremble, crown'd oppressors of mankind!
England, America, on your free soil
The slave may kneel; but only kneel to God!
Thou, gallant Stanley, scorning toil, alert,
Stern battling with thy formidable foes,
Hast won the brilliant prize; and Europe turn
Her enviously grateful eyes on thee!

⁠The outer world supposed the traveller dead.
But Murchison, and some true friends beside,