The Fair Isle

I.

Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time
Ere spoilers had breathed the free air of your clime;
All that its eagles behold in their flight
Was yours, from the deep to each storm-mantled height.
Though from your race that proud birthright be torn,
Unquench’d is the spirit for monarchy born.

CHORUS.

Darkly though clouds may hang o’er us awhile,
The crown shall not pass from the Beautiful Isle.

II.

Ages may roll ere your children regain
The land for which heroes have perish’d in vain;
Yet, in the sound of your names shall be power,
Around her still gathering in glory’s full hour.
Strong in the fame of the mighty that sleep,
Your Britain shall sit on the throne of the deep.

CHORUS.

Then shall their spirits rejoice in her smile,
Who died for the crown of the Beautiful Isle.