Now, our Country, awake!
His blue teeth, now, atone
'Tis Devil- -attired in fake,
Driven from thy every spray
And, flow water, play stone
Joyfully-
Take a smile upon thy cheek
Our Country! Our verge!
His blue teeth, now, atone
And panting in dirge
To thy cultivators, meek;
O, no more moan!
'Tis Heaven's day.
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