| |
| MIRROR of the trackless sky, | |
| Priestess of its changing mood, | |
| Ere thy shores were piled on high | |
| Thou didst feel God’s Spirit brood; | |
| Thou didst hear His word alone;— | 5 |
| Be thou still Britannia’s throne. | |
| |
| From thy deeps the creeping things | |
| Spread through cove and brook and fen, | |
| Changing scales for soaring wings | |
| And the mould of mortal men; | 10 |
| From thy womb the world hath grown! | |
| Be thou still Britannia’s throne. | |
| |
| Then among the happier ones | |
| Filing in millennial train, | |
| Thou didst make us favoured sons, | 15 |
| Teaching us to rule and reign: | |
| Thou didst call us for thine own— | |
| Be thou still Britannia’s throne. | |
| |
| Mighty Mistress, thou didst school | |
| England’s heart in all thy ways; | 20 |
| May she learn no nicer rule | |
| In the ease of after days; | |
| For the greatness we have known | |
| Be thou still Britannia’s throne. | |
| |
| For the passion of our plea, | 25 |
| For the memory of our brave, | |
| For the fights we fought for thee, | |
| For the bones that thou dost lave, | |
| For the love that we have shown! | |
| Be thou still Britannia’s throne. | 30 |
| |
