roar,
And his grip, once felt, none will forget;
And although he's grown older he's strong as of yore,
And he's king of the world even yet!
Then here's to thyself thou wee bonny land,
Here's a bumper, old England, to thee;
Thou hast nothing to fear, whilst our hearts hold
thee dear
Then "Hurrah! for the land of the free!"
We stept ashore an' th' train wor waitin. Dover wor a strange place to me but still it felt like hooam—aw gat into a comfortable carriage, lained mi heead back o' th' cushin an' when aw wakkened we wor at Lundun.