Music : James Hook
When France grown rebellious, gave death to her King,
And hurl'd at Britainnia the threat to defiance,
The genius of Britain, was thus heard to sing,
As she smil'd on her navy, and each art, and science,
Ye tars of old England, my sons now advance,
Proud Gallia shall soon British valour allow;
Your stout wooden castles shall soon humble France,
Your stout wooden castles shall soon humble France,
When "Britons Strike Home,"
When "Britons Strike Home,"
When "Britons Strike Home,"
Led the way by Lord Howe.
Arous'd by her summons, her tars flew to arms,
Each sea dog look'd upon their action with wonder,
Confusion and terror the foe soon alarms,
For what could avail the effects of their thunder?
Ye tars of old England, 'twas yours to advance,
And soon make each Frenchman your valour allow;
Your stout wooden castles have humbled proud France,
Your stout wooden castles have humbled proud France,
For "Britons Struck Home,"
For "Britons Struck Home,"
For "Britons Struck Home,"
Led the way by Lord Howe.
From his blood-distain'd billows, old Neptune arose,
And waving his trident, with joy, o'er the main,
Britannia triumphant, arose o'er her foes,
While the God of the ocean took part in this strain:
Ye tars of old England, 'twas yours to advance,
And soon make each Frenchman your valour allow;
Your stout wooden castles have humbled proud France,
Your stout wooden castles have humbled proud France,
For "Britons Struck Home,"
For "Britons Struck Home,"
For "Britons Struck Home,"
Led the way by Lord Howe.
When "Britons Strike Home,"
When "Britons Strike Home,"
When "Britons Strike Home,"
Led the way by Lord Howe.