Men of England! if the spirit
Of your fathers' deeds remain,
If the freedom you inherit
That would spurn the despot's chain;

If the name of Cressy fill you
With the hope such fields to claim,
And if Agincourt can thrill you
To surpass its deathless fame;

Emulate your glorious fathers!
Their great deeds in arms renew;
For the thunder-storm that gathers
Of the war shall burst on you.

There's a crowning virtue dwelling
In the man, unproved, till comes
Trumpet-clangors and the swelling
Thunder from the roll of drums; —

'Tis when War is holy: raising
On his altar-place sublime
Hero-sacrifice, that, blazing,
Lightens to the end of time.

'Tis when foemen would enslave him;
When the patriot's faith is shown:
That the life his country gave him
Must be shielded with his own!

When were ever bonds united
With the weaker power nor broke? —
When was held the promise plighted
To slaves yielding to the yoke? —

O remember, Freedom, never
Yet was won by alien bands;
She alone her chains must sever
With her self-protecting hands.

Men of England! as your bowmen
Won the glorious fields of old,
So be in the dust the foemen
By your deadlier rifles rolled!

Guard your land; when foes tread on her,
Be the charging whirlwind seen;
For your wives, your children's honour,
For your country and your Queen.

Think, while thousand hearts are beating
Round you, on the onset thrown,
That the triumph in that meeting
Rests upon your arm alone.

Let them come! — as waves, when surging,
Broken on the shore, to meet
The foam-covered rock emerging
From the ruin round its feet.

Let them come! — but let the watching
States, in that great battle see
How the despot falls when matching
Hireling myriads 'gainst the free.

Let their memory be cherished,
And the patriot's cup go round
For their sires who fought and perished,
But by laurelled Victory crowned!