Great little land, old comrades of the sea,

Salt of its salt, whelps of its Viking brood,

Sharers with us in its free fearless mood,

Narrow your home, world-wide your chivalry!

Now call we kin for the past and the years to be,

Now is the name of righteous Cnut renewed,

Forgiven and forgot all days of feud,

In your sure aid and swift sweet sympathy.

Your forbears ruled us with the wise King's yoke,

Your Princess binds us with her Queenly grace,

To-day your strong sons all our hearts constrain,

Who could not brook a foul and dastard stroke,

But swept between, and rather death would face,

Than that sea-murder Danish waves should stain.