This page has been validated.
8
And when the green sod wraps my grave,
May pity haply say,
Oh his heart—his heart was broken
For the love of Alice Gray.
May pity haply say,
Oh his heart—his heart was broken
For the love of Alice Gray.
ENGLAND, EUROPE'S GLORY.
There is a land amidst the waves,
Whose sons are famed in story;
Who never were, or will be slaves,
Nor shrink from death and glory.
Then strike the harp and bid it swell,
Admiring worlds adore ye;
Shout blessings on the land we dwell,
To England, Europe's glory!
Whose sons are famed in story;
Who never were, or will be slaves,
Nor shrink from death and glory.
Then strike the harp and bid it swell,
Admiring worlds adore ye;
Shout blessings on the land we dwell,
To England, Europe's glory!
Blest land, beyond all lands afar,
Encircled by the waters;
With lion-hearted sons in war,
And beauty's peerless daughters.
Go ye, whose discontented hearts
Disdain the joys before ye;
Go seek a home in foreign parts,
Like England, Europe's glory.
Encircled by the waters;
With lion-hearted sons in war,
And beauty's peerless daughters.
Go ye, whose discontented hearts
Disdain the joys before ye;
Go seek a home in foreign parts,
Like England, Europe's glory.
