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Edward Dyson - Australia
Work rating: Low

Australia, my native land, 
   A stirring whisper in your ear— 
`Tis time for you to understand 
   Your rating now is A1, dear. 
You`ve done some rousing things of late. 
That lift you from the simple state 
In which you chose to vegetate. 

The persons so superior, 
   Whose patronage no more endures, 
Now have to fire a salvo for 
   The glory that is fairly yours. 
At length you need no sort of crutch, 
You stand alone, you`re voted “much”— 
Get busy and behave as such. 

No man from Oskosh, or from Hull, 
   Or any other chosen place 
Can rise with a distended skull, 
   And cast aspersions in your face. 
You`re given all the world to know 
Your proper standing as a foe, 
And hats are off, and rightly so. 

You furnished heroes for the fray, 
   Your sterling merit`s widely blown 
To all men`s satisfaction say, 
   Now have you proved it to your own? 
Now have you strength to stand and shine 
In your own light and say, “Divine 
The thing is that I do. It`s mine!” 

The cannon`s stroke throws customs down 
   The black and bottomless abyss, 
And quaking are the gilded crown 
   And palsied feet of prejudice. 
The guns have killed, but it is true 
They bring to life things good and new. 
God grant they have awakened you! 

My ears are greedy for the toast 
   Of confidence before our guest, 
The loyal song, the manly boast 
   Your splendid faith to manifest. 
In works of art and livelihood 
Shirk not the creed, “What`s ours is good,” 
Dread not to have it understood. 

Australia, lift your royal brow, 
   And have the courage of our pride, 
Audacity becomes you now, 
   Be splendidly self-satisfied, 
No land from lowliness and dearth 
Has won to eminence on earth 
That was not conscious of its worth.
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