British Patriotic Songs


God Save the Queen

Rule, Britannia

Jerusalem

I vow to thee, my country

Land of Hope and Glory

Heart of Oak

Rose of England

There’ll Always Be an England

Flower of Scotland (Scotland's Unofficial National Anthem)

Scots, wha’ hae

Scotland the Brave

Highland Cathedral

A Man’s a Man for A’ That

Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau (Land of My Fathers) (Welsh National Anthem)

Men of Harlech (off site)

Cwm Rhondda (Welsh National Hymn) (Wikipedia)

Calon Lân (Wikipedia)

Sosban Fach (Wikipedia)

Key:

British

English

Scottish

Welsh


God Save The Queen (standard version)

God save our gracious Queen!
Long live our noble Queen!
God save The Queen!
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save The Queen!

O Lord our God arise,
Scatter her enemies,
And make them fall:
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On Thee our hopes we fix:
God save us all.

Thy choicest gifts in store,
On her be pleased to pour;
Long may she reign:
 May she defend our laws,
And ever give us cause,
To sing with heart and voice,
God save The Queen!


Rule Britannia

1 When Britain first, at Heavens command
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain:
    "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
    "Britons never will be slaves."

2 The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall;
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

3 Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful, from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

4 Thee haughty tyrants neer shall tame:
All their attempts to bend thee down,
Will but arouse thy generous flame;
But work their woe, and thy renown.
   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

5 To thee belongs the rural reign;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine:
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.

   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves."

6 The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair;
Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crown'd,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
   "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves:
   "Britons never will be slaves." 


Jerusalem

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon Englands mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among those dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green and pleasant Land.


I vow to thee, my country

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

I heard my country calling, away across the sea,
Across the waste of waters, she calls and calls to me.
Her sword is girded at her side, her helmet on her head,
And around her feet are lying the dying and the dead;
I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of her guns;
I haste to thee, my mother, a son among thy sons.

And there’s another country, I’ve heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.


Land of Hope and Glory

Solo
Dear Land of Hope, thy hope is crowned,
God make thee mightier yet!
On Sov’ran brows, beloved, renowned,
Once more thy crown is set.
Thine equal laws, by Freedom gained,
Have ruled thee well and long;
By Freedom gained, by Truth maintained,
Thine Empire shall be strong.

Chorus
Land of Hope and Glory, Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee, who are born of thee?
Wider still and wider shall thy bounds be set;
||: God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet. :||

Solo
Thy fame is ancient as the days,
As Ocean large and wide:
A pride that dares, and heeds not praise,
A stern and silent pride;
Not that false joy that dreams content
With what our sires have won;
The blood a hero sire hath spent
Still nerves a hero son.

Chorus


Heart of Oak

Come, cheer up, my lads, ’tis to glory we steer,
To add something new to this wonderful year;
To honour we call, you as freemen not slaves,
For who are so free as the sons of the waves?

Chorus
Heart of Oak are our ships,
Jolly Tars are our men,
We always are ready: Steady, boys, Steady!
We’ll fight and we’ll conquer again and again.

We ne’er see our foes but we wish them to stay,
They never see us but they wish us away;
If they run, why we follow, and run them ashore,
For if they won’t fight us, what can we do more?

Chorus

They say they’ll invade us these terrible foe,
They frighten our women, our children, our beaus,
But if should their flat-bottoms, in darkness set oar,
Still Britons they’ll find to receive them on shore.

Chorus

We still make them feel and we still make them flee,
And drub them ashore as we drub them at sea,
Then cheer up me lads with one heart let us sing,
Our soldiers and sailors, our statesmen and king.

Chorus x2


Rose of England

Grown in one land alone,
Where proud winds have blown,
There’s not a flower born of the shower
Braver than England’s own.
Though gales of winter blow,
Piercing hail and snow,
Shining she stays bright as in days of yore,
Old England’s pride still blossoms
Fresh on England’s shore.

Rose of England, thou shalt fade not here,
Proud and bright from growing year to year.
Red shall thy petals be as rich wine untold,
Shared by thy warriors who served thee of old.
Rose of England, breathing England’s air,
Flower of chivalry beyond compare;
While hand and heart endure to cherish thy prime
Thou shalt blossom to the end of time.

Rose of England, breathing England’s air,
Flower of liberty beyond compare;
While hand and heart endure to cherish thy prime
Thou shalt blossom to the end of time.


There’ll Always Be An England

I give you a toast, ladies and gentlemen.
I give you a toast, ladies and gentlemen.
May this fair dear land we love so well
In dignity and freedom dwell.
Though worlds may change and go awry
While there is still one voice to cry:

There’ll always be an England
While there’s a country lane,
Wherever there’s a cottage small
Beside a field of grain.
There’ll always be an England
While there’s a busy street,
Wherever there’s a turning wheel,
A million marching feet.

Red, white and blue; what does it mean to you?
Surely you’re proud, shout it aloud,
"Britons, awake!"
The empire too, we can depend on you.
Freedom remains. These are the chains
Nothing can break.

There’ll always be an England,
And England shall be free
If England means as much to you
As England means to me.

words & music: Parker & Charles
copyright: Unknown


Scotland the Brave (Cliff Hanley lyric)

Hark! When the night is falling
Hear, Hear! the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling, down through the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping,
Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits of the old Highland men.

Chorus
Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart for ever, Scotland the brave.

High in the misty Highlands,
Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies.
Wild are the winds to meet you,
Staunch are the friends that greet you,
Kind as the love that shines from fair maidens’ eyes.

Chorus

Far off in sunlit places,
Sad are the Scottish faces,
Yearning to feel the kiss of sweet Scottish rain.
Where tropic skies are beaming,
Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Chorus


Scots Wha Hae

by Robert Burns

Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!

Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour;
See approach proud Edward’s power—
Chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave!
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland’s king and law
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa’,
Let him follow me!

By oppression’s woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!—
Let us do or die!


Highland Cathedral

Version 1

There is a land far from this distant shore
Where heather grows and Highland eagles soar
There is a land that will live ever more
Deep in my heart, my Bonnie Scotland.

Though I serve so far away
I still see your streams, cities and dreams
I can’t wait until the day
When I’ll come home once more.

And so Lord keep me from the harm of war
Through all its dangers and the battle’s roar
Keep me safe until I’m home once more
Home to my own in Bonnie Scotland.

Version 2

Land of our fathers, we will always be
Faithful and loyal to our own country
In times of danger, we will set you free
Lead you to glory and to victory.

Chorus

Gone is the past, let us start anew.
Let this hope of peace, always remain
Spirit of Scotia, be strong and true
Then your children will smile again.

Hail, Caledonia, to our ancient prayer
In this Highland Cathedral, let our standards bear
Joining together with one dream to share
God bless the people of this land so fair.

Chorus

Lonely the exile, o’er distant seas,
The home of their birth, gone from their eyes.
Bring back their souls o’er the ocean breeze
To the land where their fathers lie.

Rise, Caledonia, let your voices ring
In this Highland Cathedral of our God and King
Whom joy and liberty to all will bring
Come; let your heart, with love and courage, sing.