A louder thunder shall be heard
    Than echoes on thy shore,
When o’er the blackened basalt cliffs
    The foreign cannon roar—
When the stand is made in the sheoaks’ shade
    When heroes fall for thee,
And the creeks in gloomy gullies run
    Dark crimson to the sea:

When under honeysuckles gray,
    And wattles’ swaying gold,
The stalwart arm may strike no more,
    The valiant heart is cold—
When thou shalt know the agony,
    The fever, and the strife
Of those who wrestle against odds
    For liberty and life:

Then is the great Dominion born,
    The seven sisters bound,
From Sydney’s greenly wooded port
    To lone King George’s Sound—
Then shall the islands of the south,
    The lands of bloom and snow,
Forth from their isolation come
    To meet the common foe.

Then, only then—when after war
    Is peace with honour born,
When from the bosom of the night
    Comes golden-sandalled morn,
When laurelled victory is thine,
    And the day of battle done,
Shall the heart of a mighty people stir,
    And Australia be as one.