When first above the briny surge
Australia reared her tow'ring crest,
The roaring gales confounded fled,
The troubled billows sunk to rest,
And proud above the azure flood,
Fixed and immoveable she stood,

The tritons, with their writhen shells,
Made all the hollow grots rebound;
Earth to her inmost centre shook,
Old Ocean trembled at the sound,
And, august, from his chrystal caves,
Rose Neptune, sovereign of the waves.
This hand his foaming steeds restrained,
And that the mighty trident bore,
Which, when the angry monarch strikes,
His empire roars from shore to shore.
He raged not now; but, with a smile
Prophetic, thus addressed our isle:

“Commerce, on halcyon wings, shall hail
Thy havens, yet to man unknown,
And loyalty shall stamp thy name
‘The brightest gem in Albion's crown;’
While the prolific bosom pours
Earth's richest gifts in lavish show'rs.”

Thus spoke the god, then dived beneath;
The peaceful calm was now no more,
The howling gales resumed their ire,
The billows dashed the sounding shore,
And wind and waves, without controul,
Bellowed their rage from pole to pole.

Ages have rolled their circling orbs
Since dumb Creation heard the tale,
Still each returning year beheld
Rude Darkness o'er our isle prevail;
But now the dawn of science gleams
And Hope streams wide her ruddy beams,