National Songs.

'This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land.'

SHAKESPEARE.

NATIONAL SONGS.

GOD SAVE OUR ISLAND HOME!

GOD save our island-home!
Long live our people's hope!
God bless our Queen!
Still may our Queen be free,
Then evermore will she
Love that good liberty

Which makes her Queen!

Oh, may she prize that gem,
Bright in her diadem,

Fair on her brow!
So, to the end of days,

May God approve her ways,

And Heaven resound her praise,
As earth does now.

Lord, keep her evermore

Pure in her own heart's core,

Kind and serene.

So shall the wise and good
Rev'rence her womanhood,
And the glad multitude

Love their good Queen.

May He that dwells on high
All her thoughts sanctify!
Seraphs unseen,

Sing up in holy glee,

'Let our Queen's name still be

Omen of victory!'

God save the Queen !

HARTLEY COLERIDGE.

GOD BLESS THE PRINCE OF WALES!

AMONG our ancient mountains,
And from our lovely vales,
Oh! let the prayer re-echo,

'God bless the Prince of Wales !'
With heart and voice awaken
Those minstrel strains of yore,
Till Britain's name and glory,
Resound from shore to shore !
Among our ancient mountains,
And from our lovely vales,
Oh! let the prayer re-echo,

6

'God bless the Prince of Wales !'

Should hostile bands or danger,
E'er threaten our fair isle,
May God's strong arm protect us,
May Heaven still on us smile!
Above the throne of England

May fortune's star long shine!
And round its sacred bulwarks,
The olive-branches twine.
Among our ancient mountains,
And from our lovely vales,

Oh! let the prayer re-echo,

'God bless the Prince of Wales !'

God save brave Christian's daughter !
Our noble Prince's pride;
The Danish flag and England's
Henceforth float side by side.

To our beloved Princess

We look with hope and joy, May sorrow never darken

Nor fate those hopes destroy. Then let the prayer re-echo, Among our hills and dales,

God bless fair Alexandra!'

'God bless the Prince of Wales!'

GEORGE LINLEY

RULE BRITANNIA!

WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of the land,

And guardian angels sang this strain :
Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves !
Britons never shall be slaves.

The nations not so blest as thee
Must, in their turn, to tyrants fall;
While thou shalt flourish, great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
Rule Britannia! &c.

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful for each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
Rule Britannia! &c.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
All their attempts to pull thee down
Will but arouse thy generous flame,
But work their woe and thy renown.
Rule Britannia! &c.

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 ! &c.

The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coasts repair,
Blest isle, with matchless beauty crowned,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.

Rule Britannia! &c.

JAMES THOMSON.