O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.

Britain is A world by itself, and we will nothing pay For wearing our own noses.

Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

Few love to hear the sins they love to act.

God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!

'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.

This is the short and the long of it.