The Future "America"
My country, 'tis of thee,
Land of lost Liberty,
Of thee we sing.
Land which the millionaires,
Who govern our affairs,
Own for themselves and heirs--
Hail to my king.
Land once of noble braves,
But now of wretched slaves--
Alas ! too late
We saw sweet Freedom die,
From letting bribers high
Our unprized suffrage buy ;
And mourn thy fate.
Land where the wealthy few
Can make the many do
Their royal will,
And tax for selfish greed
Thy toilers till they bleed,
And those not yet weak-kneed
Crush down and kill.
Land where a rogue is raised
On high and loudly praised
For worst of crimes.
Of which the end must be
A bell of cruelty,
As proved by history
Of ancient times.
My country, 'tis of thee,
Betrayed by bribery,
Of thee we sing.
We might have saved thee long
Had we, when proud and strong,
Put down the cursed wrong
That makes thy king.
Notes
From the Queensland Newspaper The Darling Downs Gazette 18 May 1889 p. 6.
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