Be England what she will,
With all her faults, she is my country still.

Be England what she will,
With all her faults, she is my country still.

Without one friend, above all foes,
Britannia gives the world repose.

Without one friend, above all foes,
Britannia gives the world repose.

England with all thy faults, I love thee still--
My country! and, while yet a nook is left
read more

England with all thy faults, I love thee still--
My country! and, while yet a nook is left
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrained to love thee.

We are indeed a nation of shopkeepers.

We are indeed a nation of shopkeepers.

The Almighty in His infinite wisdom did not see fit to create Frenchmen in the image of Englishmen.

The Almighty in His infinite wisdom did not see fit to create Frenchmen in the image of Englishmen.

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
read more

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

Those pigmy tribes of Panton street,
Those hardy blades, those hearts of oak,
Obedient to a tyrant's read more

Those pigmy tribes of Panton street,
Those hardy blades, those hearts of oak,
Obedient to a tyrant's yoke.

Ah! the perfidious English!
[Fr., Ah! la perfide Angleterre!]

Ah! the perfidious English!
[Fr., Ah! la perfide Angleterre!]

Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
read more

Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf,
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England--now.