THE BRITON'S HOMELAND.
(A COLONIST'S IMPERIAL SONG.)
Sons of Britannia! scattered wide,
Wherever rolls blue ocean's tide;
Sons of the men who proudly bore
Fair Freedom's flag to each far shore;
Ye, who yet round the homeland clinging,
Hear History's echoes grandly ringing;
Ye, who on many a distant coast,
Your British name still fondly boast—
Say, shall your ancient country be
Shorn of her rank by land or sea?
A thousand years have known her name!
A thousand fights attest her fame!
Around her island throne there runs
The blood of myriads of her sons!
The light of Freedom gilds her story,
The Patriot's service seals her glory!
Fierce is the loyal flame that fires
The worthy sons of worthy sires!
Nay, never shall our country be
Shorn of her rank by land or sea.
Let but the foeman speak the word,
Let war's wild shriek but once be heard;
Forth from the sheath the sword shall spring,
From land to land the cry shall ring!
