Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so -bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour."
For he might have been a Rooshian A French or Turk or Proosian, Or perhaps Italian. But in spite of all temptations To belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman.
The royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea.
When Britain first at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And Guardian angels sung this strain; "Rule Britannia! rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves."