CHILDREN of the South, march onward! for they come the land to bleed
With the cruel whip of Hunger and the brazen lies of Greed,
See the landlord’s fences stretching o’er the plain and through the gums.
See the building of the mansions and the spreading of the slums.
Roll a wave of battle music through the wide Australian West,
Till it finds the furthest bushman; till it fires his lowly breast.
Brave the wealthy people’s fury! claim the rights that they begrudge!
Have the angels for a jury and the King of All for Judge.
It is not so much the present as the future that we fight.
Time may see the Southern peasant sink beneath the heel of Might.
Children of the South, march onward! for your country’s cause is grand.
You are loyal to Creation, fighting for your children’s land.
Break away from foul old systems while you yet are young and strong.
Spread the truth till tens of thousands march together hating wrong.
Slowly, surely, and resistless, through the rising arch of dawn,
As the floods flow down the Darling, let the tide of truth flow on,
Send a peal of battle music through the breadths of this wide land
Till it croons across the borders where the lowly homesteads stand.
Till the poet reads, in fancy, INDEPENDENCE! written high
In the grassy leaves of sheoaks traced against a sunset sky.