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The Making of a Nation.
Not by rearing fairy arches,
Decked with flowers a day shall fade;
Not by flinging myriad banners
Forth from tower and colonnade;
Decked with flowers a day shall fade;
Not by flinging myriad banners
Forth from tower and colonnade;
Not by feasts and shows and pastimes,
Fitting though such revels be;
Not by words of adulation
Poured from lands across the sea;
Fitting though such revels be;
Not by words of adulation
Poured from lands across the sea;
Not by these—a moment's trifles,
Brilliant, but of little worth—
Not by these shall we who love her
Celebrate our Nation's birth.
Brilliant, but of little worth—
Not by these shall we who love her
Celebrate our Nation's birth.
Deeper, deeper, past these baubles
And this proud and high acclaim
Beats a mighty heart that quivers
At the naming of her name,
And this proud and high acclaim
Beats a mighty heart that quivers
At the naming of her name,
And a low and strenuous murmur,
Like a surely rising flood,
Tells the passionate awakening
Of the true Australian blood.
Like a surely rising flood,
Tells the passionate awakening
Of the true Australian blood.