In a vivid dream one morning
I was in a long-lost land
where a signpost stood – a warning:
"Slegs Blankes op hierdie strand"

There a vast white beach was gleaming,
stretched out neat and clean and fine;
its bright promised dreamscape seeming
warm and happy – yours and mine

Sense of comfort and belonging
changed with waking to despair.
I recalled their Fall, that wronging,
when the swart replaced the fair

Having it, they chose to break it:
The sad thought fills me with fear;
but resolve as well, to make it
so the same won't happen here

For I want a West that rescues
first itself by staying pure
and rejects the wretched refuse
of the dark world's teeming shore

And I want the West protected
as by Tolkien's noble lords
and a mighty wall erected
to keep out the goblin hordes

And above its golden entrance
there a message can be read
Just a single two-word sentence
which the orcs of darkness dread

And I want their racial betters
seeing, when they pass below,
those ten brilliant shining letters:
the two fairest words I know