To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Triumphant arch, that fill'st the sky when storms prepare to part.
When love came first to earth, the Spring Spread rose-beds to receive him.
Men of England! who inherit Rights that cost your sires their blood.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
The patriot's blood is the seed of Freedom's tree.
Britannia needs no bulwarks No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain wave, Her home is on the deep.