Lord, we have put our trust.
Thee, and Thy Written Word, Since the voice of St. Augustine In Saxon shires was heard.
With tautened sails undoubling We took the Western main, Beneath Thy buckler flouting The Inquisitors of Spain.
White lesser nations trembled Before the tyrant's van, Ang Teuton tribes dissembled, We caged the Corsican.
Mot amidst her daughters, Wakened. as from a trance, We rid of Hunnish slaughters The regrant fields of France.
Again, as Cour de Lion 'With' panoplied array, To save the Hill of Zion We seek the Sacred Wa To Thee alone the glory:
Ours the appointed price: A thousand years of story Aitest our sacrifice.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.