Ode to My Country
S. 1.
B RITONS ! hands and hearts prepare;
The angry tempest threatens nigh,
Deep-toned thunders roll in air,
Lightnings thwart the livid sky;
Throned upon the winged storm,
Fell Desolation rears her ghastly form,
Waves her black signal to her hell-born brood,
And lures them thus with promised blood: —
A. 1.
" Drive, my Sons, the storm amain!
" Lo, the hated, envied Land,
" Where Piety and O RDER reign,
" And F REEDOM dares maintain her stand!
" Have ye not sworn, by night and hell,
" These from the earth for ever to expel?
" Rush on, resistless, to your destined prey,
" Death and Rapine point the way. "
E. 1.
Britons! stand firm! with stout and dauntless heart
Meet, unappall'd, the threatening boaster's rage;
Yours is the great, the unconquerable part
For your loved hearths and altars to engage,
And sacred L IBERTY , more dear than life —
Yours be the triumph in the glorious strife.
Shall Theft and Murder braver deeds excite
Than honest scorn of shame, and heavenly love of right?
S. 2.
Turn the bright historic page!
Still in Glory's tented field
Albion's arms for many an age
Have taught proud Gallia's Bands to yield.
Are not W E the Sons of those
Whose steel-clad Sires pursued the insulting foes
E'en to the centre of their wide domain,
And bow'd them to a Briton's reign?
A. 2.
Kings in modest triumph led,
Graced the SABLE V ICTOR'S arms:
His conquering lance, the battle's dread; —
His courtesy the conquer'd charms.
The lion-heart soft pity knows.
To raise, with soothing cares, his prostrate foes;
The vanquish'd head true Valour ne'er oppress'd,
Nor shunn'd to succour the distress'd.
E. 2.
Spirit of great Elizabeth! inspire
High thoughts, high deeds, worthy our ancient fame;
Breathe through our ardent ranks the patriot fire,
Kindled at Freedom's ever hallow'd flame!
Baffled and scorn'd, the Iberian Tyrant found,
Though half a world his iron sceptre bound,
The gallant Amazon could sweep away,
Arm'd with her people's love, the " Invincible " array.
S. 3.
The Bold Usurper firmly held
The sword, by splendid treasons gain'd;
And Gallia's fiery genius quell'd,
And Spain's presumptuous claims restrain'd:
When lust of sway, by flattery fed,
To venturous deeds the youthful Monarch led,
In the full flow of Victory's swelling tide,
Britain check'd his power and pride.
A. 3.
To the great Batavian's name
Ceaseless hymns of triumph raise!
Scourge of tyrants, let his fame
Live in songs of grateful praise.
Thy turrets, Blenheim, glittering to the sun,
Tell of bright fields from warlike Gallia won;
Tell how the mighty Monarch mourn'd in vain
His impious wish the world to chain.
E. 3.
And ye famed Heroes, late retired to Heaven,
Whose setting glories still the skies illume,
Bend from the blissful seats to virtue given —
Avert your long-defended Country's doom.
Earth, from her utmost bounds, shall wondering tell
How Victory's meed ye gain'd, or conquering fell;
Britain's dread thunders bore from pole to pole,
Wherever man is found, or refluent oceans roll.
S. 4.
Names embalm'd-in Honour's shrine,
Sacred to immortal praise,
Patterns of Glory, born to shine,
In breathing arts, or pictured lays:
See Wolfe, by yielding numbers press'd,
Expiring smile, and sink on Victory's breast!
See Minden's plains, and Biscay's billowy bay,
Deeds of deathless fame display.
A. 4.
O! tread with awe the sacred gloom,
Patriot Virtue's last retreat;
Where Glory, on the trophied tomb,
Joys their merit to repeat:
There Chatham lies, whose masterhand
Guided through seven bright years the mighty Band,
That round his urn, where grateful Memory weeps,
Each in his hallow'd marble sleeps.
E. 4.
Her brand accursed when Civil Discord hurl'd,
Britain alone the united world withstood,
Rodney his fortune-favour'd sails unfurl'd,
And led three Nations' Chiefs to Thames's flood.
Firm on his Rock the Veteran Hero stands;
Beneath his feet unheeded thunders roar;
Smiling in scorn, he sees the glittering Bands
Fly, with repulse and shame, old Calpe's hopeless shore.
S. 5.
Heirs, or partners of their toils,
Matchless Heroes still we own;
Crown'd with honourable spoils
From the leagued nations won.
On their high prows they proudly stand
The god-like Guardians of their native land;
Lords of the mighty deep triumphant ride,
Wealth and Victory at their side.
A. 5.
Loyal, bold, and generous Bands,
Strenuous in their Country's Cause,
Guard their cultivated Lands,
Their Altars, Liberties, and Laws!
On his firm deep-founded throne
Great B RUNSWICK sits, a name to fear unknown,
With brow erect commands the glorious strife,
Unawed, and prodigal of life.
E. 5.
Sons of fair Freedom's long-descended line,
To Gallia's yoke shall Britons bend the neck —
No; in her Cause though Fate and Hell combine
To bury all in universal wreck,
Of this fair Isle to make one dreary waste,
Her greatness in her ruins only traced, —
Arts, Commerce, Arms, sunk in one common grave —
The Man who dares to die, will never live a Slave!
B RITONS ! hands and hearts prepare;
The angry tempest threatens nigh,
Deep-toned thunders roll in air,
Lightnings thwart the livid sky;
Throned upon the winged storm,
Fell Desolation rears her ghastly form,
Waves her black signal to her hell-born brood,
And lures them thus with promised blood: —
A. 1.
" Drive, my Sons, the storm amain!
" Lo, the hated, envied Land,
" Where Piety and O RDER reign,
" And F REEDOM dares maintain her stand!
" Have ye not sworn, by night and hell,
" These from the earth for ever to expel?
" Rush on, resistless, to your destined prey,
" Death and Rapine point the way. "
E. 1.
Britons! stand firm! with stout and dauntless heart
Meet, unappall'd, the threatening boaster's rage;
Yours is the great, the unconquerable part
For your loved hearths and altars to engage,
And sacred L IBERTY , more dear than life —
Yours be the triumph in the glorious strife.
Shall Theft and Murder braver deeds excite
Than honest scorn of shame, and heavenly love of right?
S. 2.
Turn the bright historic page!
Still in Glory's tented field
Albion's arms for many an age
Have taught proud Gallia's Bands to yield.
Are not W E the Sons of those
Whose steel-clad Sires pursued the insulting foes
E'en to the centre of their wide domain,
And bow'd them to a Briton's reign?
A. 2.
Kings in modest triumph led,
Graced the SABLE V ICTOR'S arms:
His conquering lance, the battle's dread; —
His courtesy the conquer'd charms.
The lion-heart soft pity knows.
To raise, with soothing cares, his prostrate foes;
The vanquish'd head true Valour ne'er oppress'd,
Nor shunn'd to succour the distress'd.
E. 2.
Spirit of great Elizabeth! inspire
High thoughts, high deeds, worthy our ancient fame;
Breathe through our ardent ranks the patriot fire,
Kindled at Freedom's ever hallow'd flame!
Baffled and scorn'd, the Iberian Tyrant found,
Though half a world his iron sceptre bound,
The gallant Amazon could sweep away,
Arm'd with her people's love, the " Invincible " array.
S. 3.
The Bold Usurper firmly held
The sword, by splendid treasons gain'd;
And Gallia's fiery genius quell'd,
And Spain's presumptuous claims restrain'd:
When lust of sway, by flattery fed,
To venturous deeds the youthful Monarch led,
In the full flow of Victory's swelling tide,
Britain check'd his power and pride.
A. 3.
To the great Batavian's name
Ceaseless hymns of triumph raise!
Scourge of tyrants, let his fame
Live in songs of grateful praise.
Thy turrets, Blenheim, glittering to the sun,
Tell of bright fields from warlike Gallia won;
Tell how the mighty Monarch mourn'd in vain
His impious wish the world to chain.
E. 3.
And ye famed Heroes, late retired to Heaven,
Whose setting glories still the skies illume,
Bend from the blissful seats to virtue given —
Avert your long-defended Country's doom.
Earth, from her utmost bounds, shall wondering tell
How Victory's meed ye gain'd, or conquering fell;
Britain's dread thunders bore from pole to pole,
Wherever man is found, or refluent oceans roll.
S. 4.
Names embalm'd-in Honour's shrine,
Sacred to immortal praise,
Patterns of Glory, born to shine,
In breathing arts, or pictured lays:
See Wolfe, by yielding numbers press'd,
Expiring smile, and sink on Victory's breast!
See Minden's plains, and Biscay's billowy bay,
Deeds of deathless fame display.
A. 4.
O! tread with awe the sacred gloom,
Patriot Virtue's last retreat;
Where Glory, on the trophied tomb,
Joys their merit to repeat:
There Chatham lies, whose masterhand
Guided through seven bright years the mighty Band,
That round his urn, where grateful Memory weeps,
Each in his hallow'd marble sleeps.
E. 4.
Her brand accursed when Civil Discord hurl'd,
Britain alone the united world withstood,
Rodney his fortune-favour'd sails unfurl'd,
And led three Nations' Chiefs to Thames's flood.
Firm on his Rock the Veteran Hero stands;
Beneath his feet unheeded thunders roar;
Smiling in scorn, he sees the glittering Bands
Fly, with repulse and shame, old Calpe's hopeless shore.
S. 5.
Heirs, or partners of their toils,
Matchless Heroes still we own;
Crown'd with honourable spoils
From the leagued nations won.
On their high prows they proudly stand
The god-like Guardians of their native land;
Lords of the mighty deep triumphant ride,
Wealth and Victory at their side.
A. 5.
Loyal, bold, and generous Bands,
Strenuous in their Country's Cause,
Guard their cultivated Lands,
Their Altars, Liberties, and Laws!
On his firm deep-founded throne
Great B RUNSWICK sits, a name to fear unknown,
With brow erect commands the glorious strife,
Unawed, and prodigal of life.
E. 5.
Sons of fair Freedom's long-descended line,
To Gallia's yoke shall Britons bend the neck —
No; in her Cause though Fate and Hell combine
To bury all in universal wreck,
Of this fair Isle to make one dreary waste,
Her greatness in her ruins only traced, —
Arts, Commerce, Arms, sunk in one common grave —
The Man who dares to die, will never live a Slave!
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