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| THERE’S a land that bears a world-known name, | |
| Though it is but a little spot; | |
| I say ’tis first on the scroll of Fame, | |
| And who shall say it is not? | |
| Of the deathless ones who shine and live | 5 |
| In Arms, in Arts, or Song; | |
| The brightest the whole wide world can give, | |
| To that little land belong. | |
| ’Tis the star of earth, deny it who can; | |
| The island home of an Englishman. | 10 |
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| There’s a flag that waves o’er every sea, | |
| No matter when or where: | |
| And to treat that flag as aught but the free | |
| Is more than the strongest dare. | |
| For the lion-spirits that tread the deck | 15 |
| Have carried the palm of the brave; | |
| And that flag may sink with a shot-torn wreck, | |
| But never float over a slave; | |
| Its honour is stainless, deny it who can; | |
| And this is the flag of an Englishman. | 20 |
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| There’s a heart that leaps with burning glow, | |
| The wronged and the weak to defend; | |
| And strikes as soon for a trampled foe, | |
| As it does for a soul-bound friend. | |
| It nurtures a deep and honest love; | 25 |
| It glows with faith and pride; | |
| And yearns with the fondness of a dove, | |
| To the light of its own fireside. | |
| ’Tis a rich, rough gem, deny it who can; | |
| And this is the heart of an Englishman. | 30 |
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| The Briton may traverse the pole or the zone, | |
| And boldly claim his right; | |
| For he calls such a vast domain his own, | |
| That the sun never sets on his might. | |
| Let the haughty stranger seek to know | 35 |
| The place of his home and birth; | |
| And a flush will pour from cheek to brow; | |
| While he tells his native earth. | |
| For a glorious charter, deny it who can, | |
| Is breathed in the words “I’m an Englishman.” | 40 |
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