And swept each holy barrier from their course,
Firm and unmoved, amidst that lava-flood,
Still, by thine arm upheld, our ancient landmarks stood.
Be they eternal!—be thy children found
Still to their country’s altars true like thee!
And while “the name of Briton” is a sound
Of rallying music to the brave and free,
With the high feelings at the word which swell,
To make the breast a shrine for Freedom’s flame,
Be mingled thoughts of him who loved so well,