I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.

Now let us sing, long live the king.

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will.

As ourselves your empires fall, And every kingdom hath a grave.

Hail to the crown by Freedom shaped--to gird An English sovereign's brow! and to the throne Whereon he sits! whose deep foundations lie In veneration and the people's love.

Why, our battalia trebles that account: Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse faction want.