LINKS
Click here to download RealPlayer G2
Click below to listen to a wonderful performance of:
a song by Thomas Augustine Arne, 1740
When Britain first at Heav'n's command
Arose from out the azure main;
(Arose from out the azure main)
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain;
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves:
Britons never will be slaves.
The nations not so blest as thee,
Shall in their turns to tyrants fall;
(Shall in their turns to tyrants fall)
While thou shalt flourish, shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves:
Britons never will be slaves.
Still mor majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
(More dreadful from each foreign stroke)
As the loud blast, loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves:
Britons never will be slaves.
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame,
All their attempts to bend thee down
(All their attempts to bend thee down)
Will but arouse, arouse thy generous flame;
But work their woe, and thy renown.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves:
Britons never will be slaves.
The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair;
(Shall to thy happy coast repair)
Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crowned,
And manly hearts to juide the fair.
Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves:
Britons never will be slaves.
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