THE Spirit of Britannia Invokes across the main, Her sister Allemannia To burst the Tyrant's chain: By our kindred blood, she cries, Rise, Allemannians, rise! And hallowed thrice the band Of our kindred hearts shall be, When your land shall be the land Of the free -- of the free! With Freedom's lion-banner Britannia rules the waves; Whilst your BROAD STONE OF HONOR Is still the camp of slaves. For shame, for glory's sake, Wake, Allemannians, wake! And thy tyrants now that whelm Half the world shall quail and flee, When your realm shall be the realm Of the free -- of the free! MARS owes to you his thunder That shakes the battle-field; Yet to break your bonds asunder No martial bolt has pealed. Shall the laurelled land of art Wear shackles on her heart? No! the clock ye framed to tell By its sound, the march of Time, Let it clang Oppression's knell O'er your clime -- o'er your clime! The press's magic letters, That blessing ye brought forth, -- Behold! it lies in fetters On the soil that gave it birth! But the trumpet must be heard, And the charger must be spurred; For your father Armin's Sprite Calls down from heaven, that ye Shall gird you for the fight, And be free! -- and be free! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOY OF WRITING by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA THRENODY by RALPH WALDO EMERSON RECUERDO by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY WOMAN'S WILL by JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE RUNNER WITH THE LOTS by LEONIE ADAMS |