Whilst happy in our native land,
So great, so famed in story,
Let’s join, my friends, with heart and hand
To raise our country’s glory:
When Britain calls, her valiant sons
Will rush in crowds to aid her—
Snatch, snatch your muskets, prime your guns,
And crush the fierce invader!
Whilst every Briton’s song shall be,
“O give us Death—or Victory!”
Long had this favour’d isle enjoy’d
True comforts, past expressing,
When France her hellish arts employ’d
To rob us of each blessing:
These from our hearths by force to tear
(Which long we’ve learned to cherish)
Our frantic foes shall vainly dare;
We’ll keep ’em or we’ll perish—
And every day our song shall be,
“O give us Death—or Victory!”
Let France in savage accents sing
Her bloody Revolution;
We prize our country, love our king,
Adore our constitution;
For these we’ll every danger face,
And quit our rustic labours;
Our ploughs to firelocks shall give place;
Our scythes be changed to sabres;
And clad in arms, our song shall be,
“O give us Death—or Victory!”
Soon shall the proud invaders learn,
When bent on blood and plunder,
That British bosoms nobly burn
To brave their cannon’s thunder:
Low lie those heads, whose wily arts
Have plann’d the world’s undoing!
Our vengeful blades shall reach those hearts
Which seek our country’s ruin;
And night and morn our song shall be,
“O give us Death—or Victory!”
When, with French blood our fields manured,
The glorious struggle’s ended,
We’ll sing the dangers we’ve endured,
The blessings we’ve defended:
O’er the full bowl our feats we’ll tell,
Each gallant deed reciting;
And weep o’er those who nobly fell
Their country’s battle fighting—
And ever thence our song shall be,
“’Tis Valour leads to Victory”.
