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| OUR 1 England’s heart is sound as oak; | |
| Our English will is firm; | |
| And through our actions Freedom spoke | |
| In history’s proudest term: | |
| When Blake was lord from shore to shore, | 5 |
| And Cromwell rul’d the land, | |
| And Milton’s words were shields of power | |
| To stay the oppressor’s hand. | |
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| Our England’s heart is yet as sound, | |
| As firm our English will; | 10 |
| And tyrants, be they cowl’d or crown’d, | |
| Shall find us fearless still. | |
| And though our Vane be in his tomb, | |
| Though Hampden’s blood is cold, | |
| Their spirits live to lead our doom | 15 |
| As in the days of old. | |
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| Our England’s heart is stout as oak; | |
| Our English will as brave | |
| As when indignant Freedom spoke | |
| From Eliot’s prison grave. | 20 |
| And closing yet again with Wrong, | |
| A world in arms shall see | |
| Our England foremost of the strong | |
| And first among the free. | |
