James Thomson
¶U700-1748]
¶28^ Rule, BritanniaWhen Britain first at Heaven's commandArose from out the azure main,This was the charter of her land.And guardian angels sung the strain:Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the wavesiBritons never shall be slaves.
¶The nations not so blest as theeMust in their turn to tyrants fall,Whilst thou shalt flourish great and freeThe dread and envy of them all.
¶Still more majestic shalt thou rise,More dreadful from each foreign stroke:As the loud blast that tears the skiesServes but to root thy native oak.
¶Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;All their attempts to bend thee downWill but arouse thy generous flame.And work their woe and thy renown.[443]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!
¶The Muses, still with Freedom found,Shall to thy happy coast repair;Blest Isle, with matchless beauty crown'dAnd manly hearts to guard the fair:—Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!Britons never shall be slaves!
To FORTUNE
¶FOR ever, Fortune, wilt thou proveAn unrelenting foe to Love ,And when we meet a mutual heartCome in between, and bid us part?
¶Bid us sigh on from day to day,And wish and wish the soul away;Till youth and genial years are flown,And all the life of life is gone?
¶But busy, busy, still art thou,To bind the loveless, joyless vow ,The heart from pleasure to delude,To join the gentle to the rude.
¶For once, O Fortune, hear my prayer,And I absolve thy future care;All other blessings I resign,Make but the dear Am and a mine.