View, Britannia, &c.
Thy haughty Tyrants ne’er shall bend
The glorious cause of Freedom down;
Their rage shall fan the sacred flame,
And work their woes and her renown.
View, Britannia, &c.
Thee best becomes the contrite strain,
For cities drench’d with human gore,
For crimes which tinge the orient main,
And banish peace from Afric’s shore