Gleam, golden star, oh gleam o'er earth and sea,
A herald of the Time that is to be.

Fetters are broken, so the fern-leaves fall,
A richer growth is budding, wondrous fair,
The flower of liberty shall bloom for all,
And all shall breathe the healing of the air;
The blessed air that wraps a people free,
Within that glorious Time that is to be.

For what is slavery but woe and crime,
And freedom is but liberty from these;
Oh perfect hours, ye come, fair and sublime,
Bearing the sweet form of the baby, Peace,
Shine, golden star, oh shine o'er earth and sea,
A herald of the Time that is to be.