When late lies the hour
Of that people foretold
Long ebbing is their power
Slipping from memory, their deeds of old
At once the winds change
the gears shift, hitting new speeds
the target moves in range
as dreams become creeds
The engine’s revolutions rush faster and faster
to rising tide’s great dismay
Fire returns to the eyes of the Republic’s old master
Foreseeing the demise of decay
Known was the Anglo Protestants’ fate
Before the foundations of the world
Driving colored worlds to hate
As now Zion, the black flag unfurls