The word of remembrance that lightens as fire from the
⁠steeps of the storm-lit past
Bids only the faith of our fathers endure in us, firm as
⁠they held it fast:
That the glory which was from the first upon England
⁠alone may endure to the last.

That the love and the hate may change not, the faith
⁠may not fade, nor the wrath nor scorn,
That shines for her sons and that burns for her foemen
⁠as fire of the night or the morn:
That the births of her womb may forget not the sign of
⁠the glory wherein they were born.

A light that is more than the sunlight, an air that is
⁠brighter than morning's breath,
Clothes England about as the strong sea clasps her, and
⁠answers the word that it saith;
The word that assures her of life if she change not, and
⁠choose not the ways of death.