Rule, Britannia! [Dutch translation]

When Britain first, at Heav’n’s command,

Arose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of the land,

And guardian angels sang this strain:

|:Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves;

Britons never will be slaves.:|

The nations not so blest as thee,

Must in their turns to tyrants fall;

While thou shalt flourish great and free,

The dread and envy of them all.

|:Chorus:|

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,

More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast, that tears the skies,

Serves but to root thy native oak.

|:Chorus:|

Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame;

All their attempts to bend thee down

Will but arouse thy generous flame,

To work their woe, and thy renown.

|:Chorus:|

To thee belongs the rural reign,

Thy cities shall with commerce shine;

All thine, shall be the subject main,

And ev’ry shore it circles thine.

|:Chorus:|

The Muses, still with freedom found,

Shall to thy happy coast repair;

Blest Isle! With matchless beauty crown’d,

And manly hearts to guard the fair.

|:Chorus:|