Wherever Waves Can Roll, And

With That Malignant Envy Which Turns Pale, And Sickens, Even If A Friend Prevail.

Be England What She Will, With All Her Faults She Is My Country Still.

With Curious Art The Brain, Too Finely Wrought, Preys On Herself, And Is Destroyed By Thought.

England, A Happy Land We Know, Where Follies Naturally Grow, Where Without Culture They Arise, And Tow'r Above The Common Size.

Wherever Waves Can Roll, And Winds Can Blow.