IT is not to be thought of that the flood...
Of British freedom,which,to the open sea..
Of the world's praise,from dark antiquity....
Hath flow'd,with pomp of waters,unwithstood,
Roused though it be full often to a mood...
Which spurns the check of salutary bands,
That this most famous stream in bogs and sands...
Should perish and to evil and to good...
Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung..
Armoury of the invincible Knights of old...
We must be free or die,who speak the tongue..
That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold....
Which Milton held.In everything we are sprung..
Of Earth's first blood,have titles manifold.....
Of British freedom,which,to the open sea..
Of the world's praise,from dark antiquity....
Hath flow'd,with pomp of waters,unwithstood,
Roused though it be full often to a mood...
Which spurns the check of salutary bands,
That this most famous stream in bogs and sands...
Should perish and to evil and to good...
Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung..
Armoury of the invincible Knights of old...
We must be free or die,who speak the tongue..
That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold....
Which Milton held.In everything we are sprung..
Of Earth's first blood,have titles manifold.....
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