Document ID ET-D487, Image 5 of 7
Chorus "The Empire Flag" – Dr. Mackenzie, Conductor – Mr. Alberto Zelman. The Empire Flag. Words by Stuart Reid (Victoria) and Wm. Alex. Barrett. The Empire flag shall proudly brave the storms that fill the sky; from war's rude shocks, from crested wave, from faction's party cry. In peace or strife, for death or life, its folds remain unfurl'd; Serene on high the flag shall fly. The mistress of the world. An English tongue its praise shall sing. While loyal spirits call; Nor Scot. Colonial, Celt are we, but Britons one and all. From far Australia's sunny land, the pulse beats warm and strong. On Africa's shores, Canadian seas, is heard the patriot song. In peace or strife, in death or life, we boast of English blood; and England's Empire flag we'll bear, thro' field, and fire and flood. An English tongue, etc. From Ganges' sacred founts, from islands of the main, from rocky Zealand's misty mounts, is heard the fervent strain – in peace or strife, for death or life, the banner proudly waves, O'er world-wide Britain's happy soil, where free men live, not slaves. An English tongue, etc. From North to South, from East to West, let hand to hand be given, and from each loyal English breast, this song ascend to Heaven – in peace or strife, for death or life, while shines the radiant sun, we'll guard each fold of the Empire flag, and stand or fall as one. An English tongue, etc. Aria "Depuis le Jour" (Louise) – Charpentier – Madame Melba. National Song "Rule Britannia" – Dr. Arne. Sold by Mr. Frederick Collier. Chorus, Orchestra and Audience, with flags. Rule Britannia. Words by Thomson. Music by Dr. Arne. When Britain first, at Heaven's command arose from out the azure main, this was the charter, the charter of the land, and guardian angels sang this strain: - chorus. Rule, Britannia : Britannia, rule the waves, Britons never will be slaves. The nations not so blessed as thee, must in their turn to tyrants fall, while thou shalt flourish, shall flourish great and free, the dread and envy of them all. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, more dreadful form each foreign stroke, as the loud blast that tears, that tears the skies, serves but to root thy native oak.
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