 | English Roses |  |
A NATIONAL HYMN.
O God, our shelter and our shield,
Beneath the burning dome
Of tropic skies, on flood and field,
And everywhere our home!
Bless Thou the Queen Thy goodness gave,
And guard the country's power
O'er rocky coast and surging wave—
The world that is its dower.
Thine are our charters true and tried,
The liberties and creeds
For which our fathers lived and died,
Old England's title deeds.
Beneath the burning dome
Of tropic skies, on flood and field,
And everywhere our home!
Bless Thou the Queen Thy goodness gave,
And guard the country's power
O'er rocky coast and surging wave—
The world that is its dower.
Thine are our charters true and tried,
The liberties and creeds
For which our fathers lived and died,
Old England's title deeds.
Be Thou the fortress of our faith
That it may brighter bloom,
Above the passing petty wraith,
Of glory and its doom.
And may our Church for ever stand
A witness to Thy name,
The bulwark of this ancient land,
The buttress of its fame.
Our Empire's sun can never set
If thou remain our pride,
The Bible and the bayonet
Fight onward side by side.
That it may brighter bloom,
Above the passing petty wraith,
Of glory and its doom.
And may our Church for ever stand
A witness to Thy name,
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The buttress of its fame.
Our Empire's sun can never set
If thou remain our pride,
The Bible and the bayonet
Fight onward side by side.
Bless Thou the State, and order still
Its rulers' high intent,
That they may work Thy righteous will
In goodly government.
And thus may freedom be our crown
In every age and clime,
And honour yet send its renown
A beacon through all time.
Let justice in our pathway shine
And gild the darkest dearth,
And clothe with thunder the red line
That girdles round the earth.
Its rulers' high intent,
That they may work Thy righteous will
In goodly government.
And thus may freedom be our crown
In every age and clime,
And honour yet send its renown
A beacon through all time.
Let justice in our pathway shine
And gild the darkest dearth,
And clothe with thunder the red line
That girdles round the earth.
Make Thou the Queen a corner stone
For Thy own Temple meet,
And frame her universal throne
The footstool of Thy feet.
And only where Thy light has led
May she hear duty's calls,
And by our love be ramparted
More than by ironclad walls.
And bless her with Thy wisdom true
Which lesser teachings feign,
That she may render each his due
And for her people reign.
For Thy own Temple meet,
And frame her universal throne
The footstool of Thy feet.
And only where Thy light has led
May she hear duty's calls,
And by our love be ramparted
More than by ironclad walls.
And bless her with Thy wisdom true
Which lesser teachings feign,
That she may render each his due
And for her people reign.
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