The Blooming Of The Flower

Our culture's like a flower,
Our people like the earth;
And many's a stranger has come diggin',
Ever since this Island's birth.

And many's a strong heart has been broken,
By promises made but not kept;
And those same strangers came a-stealin',
As our fathers quietly wept.

It's not for fame nor for fortune,
We've slaved four hundred years;
And it's not for wealth that we've struggled,
And shed our blood and our tears.

But for our fertile soil,
Our children young and strong;
But just as the seeds they get planted,
The strangers keep coming along.

Oh, hear me, my proud people,
In what seems our darkest hour;
It's not the time for surrender,
But the time for the blooming of the flower.