Page:Nothing like grog.pdf/4



When Britain, first, at Heav'n's command,

Arose from out the azure main,

Arose from out the azure main;

This was the charter, the charter of the land,

And guardian angels sung this strain:

Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves

Britons never shall be slaves.

The nations, (not so blest as thee),

Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall,

Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall;

Whilst thou shalt flourish—shalt flourish great and free.

The dread and envy of them all.

Rule, Britannia, &c.

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast that—loud blast that tears the skies,

Serves but to root the native oak.

Rule, Britannia, &c.