The Monarchy Of Britain

Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time,

Ere spoilers had breath'd the free air of your clime!

All that its eagles beheld in their flight

Was yours from the deep to each storm-mantled height!

Though from your race that proud birthright be torn,

Unquench'd is the spirit for monarchy born.

Darkly though clouds may hang o'er us awhile,

The crown shall not pass from the Beautiful Isle! {88}

Ages may roll ere your children regain

The land for which heroes have perish'd in vain.

Yet in the sound of your names shall be pow'r,

Around her still gath'ring, till glory's full hour.

Strong in the fame of the mighty that sleep,

Your Britain shall sit on the throne of the deep.

Then shall their spirits rejoice in her smile,

Who died for the crown of the Beautiful Isle!