Dreamer of yesterday, sleep thy sleep;
Rest, for thy stent is done!
Sower of seed, though not thine to reap—
Harvest of years to come.
Hear us from far in Rhodesia's hills,
Echoing round Groote Schur.
Treading to-day the united way,
Briton beside the Boer.
Rhodes, thou art sleeping, but dost thou know
Thine is a dream fulfilled?
Briton and Boer to the end shall go,
Brothers as thou hast willed.
Thine was the strife, but the sun has set
On mis'ry, hate and war;
Ours to forget and as comrades trek,
One nation for evermore.