Ye free born of Britain, rejoice ye…

Ye free born of Britain, rejoice ye, rejoice! Shout, shout, O ye millions, as 'twere with a voice! 'Till the clamorous croud Be so joyfully loud, That King Lewis the proud, That monarch of shadows, be scar'd at our joys— When at length from his fear He recovers, and dare To demand from what quarter the noise; Then, O say, say, ye slaves, "From the sons of the waves, "From the brave, from the brave, from the brave, brave boys."

Then tell to your tyrant, O tell him the cause, Say our freedom and wealth, our land and our laws, Have been so preserv'd By King George the third. With zeal we are stir'd, His rights to protect and his honour to raise: And that therefore we'll roar, On this happy shore, 'Till we strain all our throats to his praise. To the Monarch 'tis due, To our countryman too, He's our first English king, for these many fair days.