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O come ye wayward brothers
Bereft of hearth and home
Beneath yon burning star there lies
A haven for the bold.
Raise up your hands and voices
Let fill your hearts with pride
Above the churning waters we
Stand strong and unified.
We blessed few born from blood
With tired hands do toil
To shape this rugged land of ours
And build a home for all.
Beyond the silent watchmen
Upon the great loch's shore
Now stands a mighty citadel
Our rock forevermore.
To ye who help your brothers
Shrink not from Rhalgr's flame
But those who scorn their fellow man
Shall surely share his pain.
Though storms of blood approach ye
Hells open Heavens weep
No goodly soul need ever fear
The measure of His Reach.
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