Song of the Colonists Departing for New Zealand

Steer, helmsman, till you steer our way
By stars beyond the line;
We go to found a realm, one day
Like England’s self to shine.

CHORUS.
Cheer up! cheer up! our course we’ll keep
With dauntless heart and hand;
And when we’ve ploughed the stormy deep.
We’ll plough a smiling land, —

A land where beauties importune
The Briton to its bowers
To sow but plenteous seeds and prune
Luxuriant fruits and flowers.

Chorus. — Cheer up, &c.

There tracts uncheered by human words.
Seclusion’s wildest holds,
Shall hear the lowing of our herds
And tinkling of our folds.

Chorus. — Cheer up, &c.

Like rubies set in gold shall blush
Our vineyards girt with corn;
And wine, and oil, and gladness gush
From Amalthea’s horn.

Chorus. — Cheer up, &c.

Britannia’s pride is in our hearts,
Her blood is in our veins;
We’ll girdle earth with British arts,
Like Ariel’s magic chains.

Chorus. — Cheer up, &c.