The undying light
That points the road her freeborn spirits go.
England’s your Mother! Man, forget it not
Wherever on the wide-wayed earth your fate
Calls you to labour; whatsoe’er your lot—
In service, or in power, in stress or state—
Whate’er betide,
With humble pride,
Remember! By your Mother you are great.
England’s your Mother! What though dark the day