Rule Britannia

Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

The Muses, still with freedom found
Shall to thy happy coasts repair
Blest isle! with matchless beauty crowned
And manly hearts to guard the fair.

Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.