 | Songs for Sailors |  |
[O holy Peace, thrice-blessing]
O holy Peace, thrice-blessing
The lands in which you dwell,
Let us, your gifts possessing,
Still love your presence well!
Enough our island story
Has gathered of renown
In many a day of glory
That struck our foemen down.
O Reason, all wrongs righting,
Make war from earth to cease!
Still, earth with bliss delighting,
Dwell with us, holy Peace!
The lands in which you dwell,
Let us, your gifts possessing,
Still love your presence well!
Enough our island story
Has gathered of renown
In many a day of glory
That struck our foemen down.
O Reason, all wrongs righting,
Make war from earth to cease!
Still, earth with bliss delighting,
Dwell with us, holy Peace!
Yet war too shall be holy
If we must show our might,
If we its might use solely
For freedom and the right;
No fear of war shall fright us
To crouch, or pale, or sue;
We are, if arms must right us,
To all our greatness true.
Our grand old island story
In grandeur must increase;
If it be shame or glory?
Our choice shall not be peace.
If we must show our might,
If we its might use solely
For freedom and the right;
No fear of war shall fright us
To crouch, or pale, or sue;
We are, if arms must right us,
To all our greatness true.
Our grand old island story
In grandeur must increase;
If it be shame or glory?
Our choice shall not be peace.
No, no; we will not dwindle,
Old deeds our souls shall stir,
Old fames our hearts shall kindle
To be the men we were.
Our land each century gathers
New harvests of renown;
These to our sons their fathers
Shall hand unlessened down;
No coward fears are sighing
That war's dread days may cease;
If safety we are buying
With shame, farewell to Peace.
Old deeds our souls shall stir,
Old fames our hearts shall kindle
To be the men we were.
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New harvests of renown;
These to our sons their fathers
Shall hand unlessened down;
No coward fears are sighing
That war's dread days may cease;
If safety we are buying
With shame, farewell to Peace.
Peace dwells not with the weakly;
With those she lives not long
Who bear injustice meekly,
And swordless front the strong.
With heroes is she dwelling,
She but consorts with such
Of whom renown is telling,
Whom War dares not to touch.
Their fame, their homes defending,
They know from war release;
With them, in bliss unending,
Dwells ever holy Peace.
With those she lives not long
Who bear injustice meekly,
And swordless front the strong.
With heroes is she dwelling,
She but consorts with such
Of whom renown is telling,
Whom War dares not to touch.
Their fame, their homes defending,
They know from war release;
With them, in bliss unending,
Dwells ever holy Peace.
| Songs for Sailors | |