Happy Birthday Thomas Augustine Arne 1 When Britain first, at Heavens 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. 2 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. 3 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. 4 Thee haughty tyrants neer 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. 5 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. 6 The Muses, still with freedom found, Shall to thy happy coast repair; Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crownd, And manly hearts to guard the fair. Rule, Britannia! rule the waves: Britons never will be slaves.
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 11:00:07 +0000
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