The Sunlight laughs along the serried stone br About whose feet the wastrel tide runs free; br Light lie the shipmasts, fairy-like to see, br Athwart the royal city’s splendour thrown; br On runs the noble river, wide and lone, br Like some great soul that presses to the sea br Where life is rendered to eternity br And eager thought hath rest in the Unknown. br br So sets thy tide, my country, to the deep br Whose face is black with thunder near and far, br And vexed with fleering gusts and tyrannous rain.