Thomas Campbell

Britannia needs no bulwarks
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
read more

Britannia needs no bulwarks
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
Her home is on the deep.

And hears thy stormy music in the drum!

And hears thy stormy music in the drum!

'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.

'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.