Читать книгу The Canadian Readers, Book V - John Miller Dow Meiklejohn - Страница 22

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When Britain first, at Heaven’s command,

Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of the land,

And guardian angels sung this strain:

“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves,

Britons never will be slaves.”

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast that tears the skies

Serves but to root thy native oak.

The Muses, still with freedom found,

Shall to thy happy coast repair:

Blest Isle! with matchless beauty crown’d,

And manly hearts to guard the fair.

—James Thomson.