Rule Britannia

   When Britain first, at Heaven's command
   Arose from out the azure main;
   This was the charter of the land,
   And guardian angels sang this strain:

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

   The nations, not so blest as thee,
   Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall;
   While thou shalt flourish great and free,
   The dread and envy of them all.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

   Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
   More dreadful, from each foreign stroke;
   As the loud blast that tears the skies,
   Serves but to root thy native oak.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

   Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame:
   All their attempts to bend thee down,
   Will but arouse thy generous flame;
   But work their woe, and thy renown.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

   To thee belongs the rural reign;
   Thy cities shall with commerce shine:
   All thine shall be the subject main,
   And every shore it circles thine.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

   The Muses, still with freedom found,
   Shall to thy happy coast repair;
   Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crown'd,
   And manly hearts to guard the fair.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."