As our sires beheld before us we behold Grace Darling
⁠Crowned and throned our queen, and as they hailed we hail her name.
Nay, not ours alone, her kinsfolk born, though chiefliest ours,
⁠East and west and south acclaim her queen of England's maids,
Star more sweet than all their stars and flower than all their flowers,
⁠Higher in heaven and earth than star that sets or flower that fades.
How should land or sea that nurtured her forget, or love
⁠Hold not fast her fame for us while aught is borne in mind?
Land and sea beneath us, sun and moon and stars above,
⁠Bear the bright soul witness, seen of all but souls born blind.