Take ye the thunder of her solemn name
Upon your lips with reverence; play your part
By word and deed
To shield and speed
The far-flung splendour of her ancient fame.
England’s your Mother! Shall not you, her child,
Quicken the everlasting fires that glow
Upon your birthright’s altar? England smiled
Beside your cradle, trusting you to show,
With manhood’s might,