 | The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson |  |
BRITONS, UNITED, THE WORLD MAY DEFY.
WRITTEN DURING A THREATENED INVASION.
Ye sons of the brave, who erst conquer'd at Cressy,
And the war-bolts of vengeance on nations oft hurl'd,
Whose heroes triumphant, encircled with glory,
To stem proud oppression, the sails oft unfurl'd;
Rise, rise! now the war-whoop o'er Britain is sounding,
And this be your song, let us conquer or die!
Beware of fell faction, and conquest awaits you,
For Britons, united, the world may defy.
And the war-bolts of vengeance on nations oft hurl'd,
Whose heroes triumphant, encircled with glory,
To stem proud oppression, the sails oft unfurl'd;
187
And this be your song, let us conquer or die!
Beware of fell faction, and conquest awaits you,
For Britons, united, the world may defy.
Where, where is the bosom that beats not with ardour,
To meet the invaders who threaten our coast?
Where, where is the arm that would not strike with fury,
To hurl to destruction a tyrannic host?
Avaunt, ye pale cowards, who shrink at the danger!
'Tis the boast of the virtuous their country to save;
Your children shall blush for their terror-struck fathers
While Freedom shall weep o'er the tombs of the brave!
To meet the invaders who threaten our coast?
Where, where is the arm that would not strike with fury,
To hurl to destruction a tyrannic host?
Avaunt, ye pale cowards, who shrink at the danger!
'Tis the boast of the virtuous their country to save;
Your children shall blush for their terror-struck fathers
While Freedom shall weep o'er the tombs of the brave!
Shall a pigmy usurper whose laurels are blighted,
Who scorns the Creator, and laughs at his pow'r,
Shall a horde of assassins long stain'd with foul slaughter,
Forge chains for a Briton? No! welcome the hour,
When Gallia's proud vassals, by bombast deluded,
Shall dare to the conflict of nations the pride!
—In vain on the white cliffs of Albion we wait them,
The blood of their warriors shall crimson the tide!
Who scorns the Creator, and laughs at his pow'r,
Shall a horde of assassins long stain'd with foul slaughter,
Forge chains for a Briton? No! welcome the hour,
When Gallia's proud vassals, by bombast deluded,
Shall dare to the conflict of nations the pride!
188
The blood of their warriors shall crimson the tide!
Remember our fathers, who fell on the scaffold,
And purchas'd with blood, what we boldly dare claim;
Remember proud Spain, and her long-wept Armada,
Then prove to the world, Britons still are the same!
By the dear ties of nature! by beauty's soft graces!
By freedom! by justice! we'll conquer or die!
And vengeance shall blast the dark foes of their country,
For Britons, united, the world may defy!
And purchas'd with blood, what we boldly dare claim;
Remember proud Spain, and her long-wept Armada,
Then prove to the world, Britons still are the same!
By the dear ties of nature! by beauty's soft graces!
By freedom! by justice! we'll conquer or die!
And vengeance shall blast the dark foes of their country,
For Britons, united, the world may defy!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson | |