A Hymn Of Brotherhood
People of peoples, from far o’er the ocean
Gathered in pilgrimage hopeful and free,
Gladly we yield thee a grateful devotion;
Son of all climes, we are loyal to thee.
Deep in the ages thy freedom is rooted.
Liberty groping through desperate years;
Now in America flowered and fruited.
Still it is fed with our blood and our tears.
Not in the languor of ease and contentment,
Not in the pride of a blinded conceit,
Daring thy foes with a manly resentment,
We shall not falter nor fear a defeat.
Land of all peoples, to all is thy duty;
Heir of the ages, how great is thy debt!
Laden with power and riches and beauty,
Those who bestowed it thou shalt not forget.
Now in the power the nations have given,
Country, our country, be brotherly brave.
Strive till the last cursed chain has been riven;
Thou who art ransomed, be eager to save!