 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
73
NATIONAL HYMN.
God bless His chosen one,
With all the riches in His store;
By her be blest each loyal son,
Each maid that loves as maids before;
Through her His battles yet be won,
And truth be purged to precious ore;
In her His heavenly will be done,
Now and for evermore.
God bless the Queen!
With all the riches in His store;
By her be blest each loyal son,
Each maid that loves as maids before;
Through her His battles yet be won,
And truth be purged to precious ore;
In her His heavenly will be done,
Now and for evermore.
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant's crown,
And hold her ministering hand,
To stem the storms that tyrants drown,
And break the helpless captive's band;
To guard our England's old renown,
Which makes the meanest subject grand;
And may she pass it fairer down,
Unto a fairer land.
God bless the Queen!
And hold her ministering hand,
To stem the storms that tyrants drown,
And break the helpless captive's band;
To guard our England's old renown,
Which makes the meanest subject grand;
And may she pass it fairer down,
Unto a fairer land.
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant's throne,
Which He who founded fosters yet;
Built not of perishable stone,
Nor even as suns that rise and set;
Which love hath fenced, that ever shone,
Not breath of fire nor bayonet;
Established on His Word alone,
Which she doth not forget;
God bless the Queen!
Which He who founded fosters yet;
Built not of perishable stone,
Nor even as suns that rise and set;
Which love hath fenced, that ever shone,
Not breath of fire nor bayonet;
Established on His Word alone,
Which she doth not forget;
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant's ways,
And give His glory to her halls,
To light the ignorant foot that strays,
And lift the weary frame that falls;
To turn dark hours to summer days,
While hope and worship are our walls,
With faith that every evil slays,
When duty arms and calls;
God bless the Queen!
And give His glory to her halls,
To light the ignorant foot that strays,
And lift the weary frame that falls;
To turn dark hours to summer days,
While hope and worship are our walls,
With faith that every evil slays,
When duty arms and calls;
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant's might,
That it may scorn a vain pretence,
And ever ward with one delight
The wealthy's gold, the poor man's pence;
May it be with His favour bright,
And she His champion sworn, and thence
Defender of the good and right,
Strong in His high defence
God bless the Queen!
That it may scorn a vain pretence,
And ever ward with one delight
The wealthy's gold, the poor man's pence;
May it be with His favour bright,
And she His champion sworn, and thence
Defender of the good and right,
Strong in His high defence
God bless the Queen!
74
God bless His Servant's trust,
As founts that overflow their brim,
Who raiseth peoples from the dust,
And turns the noontide splendour dim;
That she may draw for service just,
And not in passion, not from whim,
The sword which never gathers rust,
Which sacred is to Him.
God bless the Queen!
As founts that overflow their brim,
Who raiseth peoples from the dust,
And turns the noontide splendour dim;
That she may draw for service just,
And not in passion, not from whim,
The sword which never gathers rust,
Which sacred is to Him.
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant still,
Make her imperial realm as sure
As is the everlasting hill,
Like ocean wide, like heaven secure;
Shield her and hers from every ill,
Keep brave her sons, her daughters pure;
That one with His unerring Will,
We may in Him endure.
God bless the Queen!
Make her imperial realm as sure
As is the everlasting hill,
Like ocean wide, like heaven secure;
Shield her and hers from every ill,
Keep brave her sons, her daughters pure;
That one with His unerring Will,
We may in Him endure.
God bless the Queen!
God bless His Servant true,
With olive twine her royal rod;
And let her sky be always blue,
Green alway her earth's every sod;
His honour be the only clue,
To guide her as our fathers trod,
Along the road that is His due.
Amen: so help her God.
God bless the Queen!
With olive twine her royal rod;
And let her sky be always blue,
Green alway her earth's every sod;
His honour be the only clue,
To guide her as our fathers trod,
Along the road that is His due.
Amen: so help her God.
God bless the Queen!
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |