Our Country's Saviour |
Oh! Had I old Timotheus' lyre, So much renowned in story; Or burned for me Appollo's fire, I'd sing of William's glory: From shore to shore his praises should ring, No loyal heart could waver, But throbbing beat while loud he'd sing, Our laws and country's saviour.
A ball came flying to the spot; | He boldly crossed Boyne's silver flood, While thundering guns did ratle; The wondering world in silence stood, Astonished at the battle. "Come on," says he. "Be not dismayed, From Heaven we'll meet with favor I'd strive to earn the glorious name, Our laws' and country's saviour.
The contest firmly was maintained |
Now fill your glasses, fill them high, To king and Constitution; And low may every scoundrel lie Who'd wish for revolution: And humbly from high Heaven we'll beg. This great - this lasting favour: That William's cause may never fail, Our laws' and country's saviour. |