The Dawn is at Hand

Dark brothers, first Australian race,

Soon you will take your rightful place

In the brotherhood long waited for,

Fringe-dwellers no more.

Sore, sore the tears you shed

When hope seemed folly and justice dead.

Was the long night weary? Look up, dark band,

The dawn is at hand.

Go forward proudly and unafraid

To your birthright all too long delayed,

For soon now the shame of the past

Will be over at last.

You will be welcomed mateship-wise

In industry and in enterprise;

No profession will bar the door,

Fringe-dwellers no more.

Dark and white upon common ground

In club and office and social round,

Yours the feel of a friendly land,

The grip of the hand.

Sharing the same equality

In college and university,

All ambitions of hand or brain.

Yours to attain.

For ban and bias will soon be gone,

The future beckons you bravely on

To art and letters and nation lore,

Fringe-dwellers no more.

Oodgeroo of the Noonucal Tribe