名人诗歌|THE GOLDEN THRESHOLD(41)

O young through all thy immemorial years！ Rise, Mother, rise, regenerate^{1 from thy gloom, And, like a bride high-mated with the spheres, Beget2 new glories from thine ageless womb！}

The nations that in fettered^{3 darkness weep Crave4 thee to lead them where great mornings break . . . . Mother, O Mother, wherefore dost thou sleep？ Arise and answer for thy children's sake！}

Thy Future calls thee with a manifold sound To crescent honours, splendours, victories vast； Waken, O slumbering^{5 Mother and be crowned, Who once wert empress of the sovereign Past.}