O Child of Nations, giant-limbed,
   Who stand'st among the nations now
Unheeded, unadored, unhymned,
   With unanointed brow, --

How long the ignoble sloth, how long
   The trust in greatness not thine own?
Surely the lion's brood is strong
   To front the world alone!

 ... 

I see to every wind unfurled
   The flag that bears the Maple Wreath;
Thy swift keels furrow round the world
   Its blood-red folds beneath;

 ... 

But thou, my country, dream not thou!
   Wake, and behold how night is done, --
How on thy breast, and o'er thy brow,
   Bursts the uprising sun!