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God bless our native land
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night
When the wild tempests rave
Ruler of wind and wave
Do Thou our country save
By Thy great might

For her our prayers shall rise
To God above the skies
On Him we wait
Thou who art ever night
Guarding with watchful eye
To Thee aloud we cry
God save the State

Not on this land alone,
but be God's mercies known
from shore to shore:
Lord, make the nations see
that men should brothers be,
and form one family
the wide world o'er.

2) Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.

3)My country! In thy days of glory past
A beauteous halo circled round thy brow
and worshipped as a deity thou wast
Where is thy glory, where the reverence now?
Thy eagle pinion is chained down at last,
And grovelling in the lowly dust art thou,
Thy minstrel hath no wreath to weave for thee
Save the sad story of thy misery!
Welllet me dive into the depths of time
And bring from out the ages, that have rolled
A few small fragments of these wrecks sublime
Which human eye may never more behold
And let the guerdon of my labour be,
My fallen country! One kind wish for thee!

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