|
|
|
O thou that sendest out the man To rule by land and sea, Strong mother of a Lion-line, Be proud of those strong sons of thine Who wrench'd their rights from thee! What wonder if in noble heat Those men thine arms withstood, Retaught the lesson thou hadst taught, And in thy spirit with thee fought Who sprang from English blood! But thou rejoice with liberal joy, Lift up thy rocky face, And shatter, when the storms are black, In many a streaming torrent back, The seas that shock thy base! Whatever harmonies of law The growing world assume, Thy work is thine—the single note From that deep chord which Hampden smote Will vibrate to the doom. |