God save our gracious King,

Nations and State and King,

God save the King!

Grant him good Peace Divine,

But if his Wars be Thine,

Flash on his Fighting Line

Victory's Wing!

Thou in his suppliant hands

Hast placed such mighty Lands:

Save Thou our King!

As once from golden skies

Rebels with flaming eyes

So the King's enemies

Doom Thou and fling.

Mountains that break the night

Holds he by Eagle Right,

Stretching far wing:

Dawn lands for youth to reap,

Dim lands where Empires sleep

His! And the Lion-Deep

Roars for the King.

But most these few dear miles

Of star-flower-meadowed isles,

England, all Spring.

Scotland that by the marge

Where the blank north doth charge

Hears Thy voice loud and large

Guard, and their King!

Grace on the golden dales

Of Thine old Christian Wales

Shower till they sing, --

Till Erin's island Lawn

Echo the dulcet-drawn

Song with a shout of Dawn --

God save the King!