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.