Yes: we have fought in battle's bloodiest fray
For life, and liberty—life's brightest gem—
And clasped it in our island-diadem,
Whence none shall pluck the precious prize away:

And East and West have bent them to our sway,
From Darien's bosom to the holy stream
Which glitters in Aurora's earliest beam—
What race so bold our bidding may gainsay?

O not for self alone, dear mother-land,
Be such achievements wrought! while aught remains
Fettered or on firm earth, or on the sea,

Issue in God's dread name thine high command;
Speak from each shrivelled limb it's galling chains,
And bid dark Afric's sons, like thine, be free.

F. Wrangham.

Hunmanby, April 8, 1826