Steadfast England, sheltering tree
Rooted in the northern sea,
In your strong boughs' security
The hunted wild-bird, Liberty,
Found, long since, a place of rest
And builded an abiding nest.

Raked by war's hell-driven blast
Your cherished leaves are falling fast:
Fresh sap to aged roots they give,
And proudly die that you may live
To win for wounded Liberty
The world and immortality.