O’er peaceful realms, that smiled with plenty gay, Has desolation spread her ample sway; Thy blast, O Ruin! on tremendous wings, Has proudly swept o’er empires, nations, kings. Thus the wild hurricane’s impetuous force With dark destruction marks its whelming course, Despoils the woodland’s pomp, the blooming plain, Death on its pinion, vengeance in its train! --Rise, Freedom, rise! and, breaking from thy trance, Wave the dread banner, seize the glittering lance! With arm of might assert thy sacred cause, And call thy champions to defend thy laws! How long shall tyrant power her throne maintain? How long shall despots and usurpers reign? Is honour’s lofty soul for ever fled! Is virtue lost? is martial ardour dead? Is there no heart where worth and valour dwell, No patriot Wallace, no undaunted Tell? Yes, Freedom! yes! thy sons, a noble band, Around thy banner, firm, exulting stand; Once more, ’tis thine, invincible to wield The beamy spear and adamantine shield! Again thy cheek with proud resentment glows, Again thy lion-glance appals thy foes; Thy kindling eye-beam darts unconquer’d fires, Thy look sublime the warrior’s heart inspires; And, while to guard thy standard and thy right, Castilians rush, intrepid, to the fight, Lo! Britain’s generous host their aid supply, Resolved for thee to triumph or to die; And Glory smiles to see Iberia’s name Enroll’d with Albion’s in the book of fame! Illustrious names! still, still united beam, Be still the hero’s boast, the poet’s theme: So, when two radiant gems together shine, And in one wreath their lucid light combine; Each, as it sparkles with transcendant rays, Adds to the lustre of its kindred blaze. Descend, O Genius! from thy orb descend! Thy glowing thought, thy kindling spirit lend! As Memnon’s harp (so ancient fables say) With sweet vibration meets the morning ray, So let the chords thy heavenly presence own, And swell a louder note, a nobler tone; Call from the sun, her burning throne on high, The seraph Ecstasy, with lightning eye; Steal from the source of day empyreal fire, And breathe the soul of rapture o’er the lyre! Hail, Albion! hail, thou land of freedom’s birth! Pride of the main, and Phœnix of the earth! Thou second Rome, where mercy, justice, dwell, Whose sons in wisdom as in arms excel!