Let Me Not Be Afraid To Defend

Cry, The Beloved Country, For The Unborn Child That's The Inheritor Of Our Fear. Let Him Not Love The Earth Too Deeply. Let Him Not Laugh Too Gladly When The Water Runs Through His Fingers, Nor Stand Too Silent When The Setting Sun Makes Red The Veld With Fire. Let Him Not Be Too Moved When The Birds Of His Land Are Singing. Nor Give Too Much Of His Heart To A Mountain Or A Valley. For Fear Will Rob Him If He Gives Too Much.

I Envision Someday A Great, Peaceful South Africa In Which The World Will Take Pride, A Nation In Which Each Of Many Different Groups Will Be Making Its Own Creative Contribution.

There Is A Man Sleeping In The Grass. And Over Him Is Gathering The Greatest Storm Of All His Days. Such Lightening And Thunder Will Come There Has Never Been Seen Before, Bringing Death And Destruction. People Hurry Home Past Him, To Places Safe From Danger. And Whether They Do Not See Him There In The Grass, Or Whether They Fear To Halt Even A Moment, But They Do Not Wake Him, They Let Him Be.

It Was Not His Habit To Dwell On What Could Have Been, But What Could Never Be.

When Men Are Ruled By Fear, They Strive To Prevent The Very Changes That Will Abate It.