When Britain first at Heaven's command|
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of her land,
And guardian angels sung the strain:
Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves.
The nations not so blest as thee
Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;|
All their attempts to bend thee down
Will but arouse thy generouse flame,
And work their voe and thy renown.
To thee belongs the rural reign;
The Muses, still with Freedom found,
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