Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/59



I' rather be an Englishman,
 * Whatever may betide,

And boast the proud possession
 * Of an Englishman's fireside—

I'd rather have old England,
 * As the land that gave me birth,

With all the faults they charge her with,
 * Than any place on earth.

The rabid voice of anarchy
 * May rave 'bout other climes.

But have they more of freedom there?
 * Or have they better times?

Is liberty of kinder growth—
 * Oppression quite unknown—

Or are the blessings they enjoy
 * Superior to our own?

The answer's No! a thousand times repeated—No! and then A world's wide echo takes it up, and thunders No! again; May no vile, frantic love of change, destroy or set aside Those fine old Institutions for which our fathers died. Sedition is, and ever was, a nation's greatest curse, And only has the tendency of making bad things worse; Convinced of this, come, let us join in one true loyal band, And die for (if we 're called upon) our Queen and Native Land.


 * I'd rather be an Englishman, &c.