Page:Nothing like grog.pdf/5

 The haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame.

All their attempts to bend thee down,

All their attempts to bend thee down.

Will but arouse thy—arouse thy gen’rous flame,

But work their woe, and thy renown.

Rule, Britannia, &c.

To thee belongs the rural reign;

Thy cities shall with commerce shine;

Thy cities shall with commerce shine;

And thine shall be the—shall be the subject main;

And ev'ry shore it circles, thine.

Rule, Britannia, &c.

The Muses, still with freedom found,

Shall to thy happy coasts repair;

Shall to thy happy coasts repair;

Blest isle! with matchless—with matchless beauty crown’d,

And manly hearts to guard the fair.

Rule, Britannia, &c.

What ails this heart o’ mine,

What ails this watery e‘e?