Baptised Invincible in Austria’s gore!
Joy for the day on red Vimeira’s strand,
When, bayonet to bayonet opposed,
First of Britannia’s host her Highland band
Gave but the death-shot once, and foremost closed!
Is there a son of generous England here
Or fervid Erin?—he with us shall join,
To pray that in eternal union dear,
The rose, the shamrock, and the thistle twine!
Types of a race who shall the invader scorn,