O Mother-Country! Of a continent
The fairest lands and climes we proudly hold;
And flocks, and herds, and corn, and wine, and gold,
And stately cities, of earth's rarest blent,
Are richly ours; and we are well content
With our bright world, our banner's starry fold,
And would not be by other name enrolled,—
Yet how we love thee through our one descent,
Our common tongue, our old, immortal story!
Imperial England, throned amid the seas,
Under all suns thy daring bugles blow;
The east winds and the west waft thy decrees;—
Forever light, law, liberty, bestow,
And farthest ages celebrate thy glory!