Adore November's sacred seventeenth day,
Wherein our second sun began her shine:
Ring out, loud sounding bells; on organs play;
To music's mirth let all estates incline:
Sound drums and trumpets, rending air and ground;
Stringed instruments, strike with melodious sound.
Ye mighty men of Mars, ennobled knights,
Advance yourselves on fiery foaming steeds:
Revive this time's remembrance, with all rights,
In armour bright and gorgeous warlike weeds:
At tilt and tourney, trying martial might,
And battering strokes, at barriers forceful fight.
Ye country folk, forth stalking in your fields,
Loud carols sing to celebrate this time;
Show signs of joy (as country manner yields)
In sporting games, with dance and rural rhyme:
Each swain and shepherd sound his piping reed
For joy, enjoying fields and flocks to feed.
Ye British poets, repeat in royal song
(With weighty words, used in King Arthur's days)
Th'imperial stock from whence your Queen hath sprung;
Install in verse your Princess' lasting praise:
Pencerddiaid, play on ancient harp and crowde;
Atceiniaid, sing her praises piercing loud.
Let hills and rocks rebounding echoes yield
Of Queen Elizabeth's long lasting fame;
Let woody groves and watery streams be filled,
And creeks and caves, with sounding of the same:
O Cambria, stretch and strain thy utmost breath,
To praise and pray for Queen Elizabeth.
Her third time ten years reign we now possess;
Thrice three times ten God grant her grace may reign
To this her realm's long wished for wealfulness,
Whereby each long erst loss it may regain:
And so redound, the happiest realm for aye,
Unturned from truth ev'n till the latter day.
Adore November's sacred seventeenth day,
Wherein our second sun began her shine:
Ring out, loud sounding bells; on organs play;
To music's mirth let all estates incline:
Sound drums and trumpets, rending air and ground;
Stringed instruments, strike with melodious sound.
Ye mighty men of Mars, ennobled knights,
Advance yourselves on fiery foaming steeds:
Revive this time's remembrance, with all rights,
In armour bright and gorgeous warlike weeds:
At tilt and tourney, trying martial might,
And battering strokes, at barriers forceful fight.
Ye country folk, forth stalking in your fields,
Loud carols sing to celebrate this time;
Show signs of joy (as country manner yields)
In sporting games, with dance and rural rhyme:
Each swain and shepherd sound his piping reed
For joy, enjoying fields and flocks to feed.
Ye British poets, repeat in royal song
(With weighty words, used in King Arthur's days)
Th'imperial stock from whence your Queen hath sprung;
Install in verse your Princess' lasting praise:
Pencerddiaid, play on ancient harp and crowde;
Atceiniaid, sing her praises piercing loud.
Let hills and rocks rebounding echoes yield
Of Queen Elizabeth's long lasting fame;
Let woody groves and watery streams be filled,
And creeks and caves, with sounding of the same:
O Cambria, stretch and strain thy utmost breath,
To praise and pray for Queen Elizabeth.
Her third time ten years reign we now possess;
Thrice three times ten God grant her grace may reign
To this her realm's long wished for wealfulness,
Whereby each long erst loss it may regain:
And so redound, the happiest realm for aye,
Unturned from truth ev'n till the latter day.
Wherein our second sun began her shine:
Ring out, loud sounding bells; on organs play;
To music's mirth let all estates incline:
Sound drums and trumpets, rending air and ground;
Stringed instruments, strike with melodious sound.
Ye mighty men of Mars, ennobled knights,
Advance yourselves on fiery foaming steeds:
Revive this time's remembrance, with all rights,
In armour bright and gorgeous warlike weeds:
At tilt and tourney, trying martial might,
And battering strokes, at barriers forceful fight.
Ye country folk, forth stalking in your fields,
Loud carols sing to celebrate this time;
Show signs of joy (as country manner yields)
In sporting games, with dance and rural rhyme:
Each swain and shepherd sound his piping reed
For joy, enjoying fields and flocks to feed.
Ye British poets, repeat in royal song
(With weighty words, used in King Arthur's days)
Th'imperial stock from whence your Queen hath sprung;
Install in verse your Princess' lasting praise:
Pencerddiaid, play on ancient harp and crowde;
Atceiniaid, sing her praises piercing loud.
Let hills and rocks rebounding echoes yield
Of Queen Elizabeth's long lasting fame;
Let woody groves and watery streams be filled,
And creeks and caves, with sounding of the same:
O Cambria, stretch and strain thy utmost breath,
To praise and pray for Queen Elizabeth.
Her third time ten years reign we now possess;
Thrice three times ten God grant her grace may reign
To this her realm's long wished for wealfulness,
Whereby each long erst loss it may regain:
And so redound, the happiest realm for aye,
Unturned from truth ev'n till the latter day.
Adore November's sacred seventeenth day,
Wherein our second sun began her shine:
Ring out, loud sounding bells; on organs play;
To music's mirth let all estates incline:
Sound drums and trumpets, rending air and ground;
Stringed instruments, strike with melodious sound.
Ye mighty men of Mars, ennobled knights,
Advance yourselves on fiery foaming steeds:
Revive this time's remembrance, with all rights,
In armour bright and gorgeous warlike weeds:
At tilt and tourney, trying martial might,
And battering strokes, at barriers forceful fight.
Ye country folk, forth stalking in your fields,
Loud carols sing to celebrate this time;
Show signs of joy (as country manner yields)
In sporting games, with dance and rural rhyme:
Each swain and shepherd sound his piping reed
For joy, enjoying fields and flocks to feed.
Ye British poets, repeat in royal song
(With weighty words, used in King Arthur's days)
Th'imperial stock from whence your Queen hath sprung;
Install in verse your Princess' lasting praise:
Pencerddiaid, play on ancient harp and crowde;
Atceiniaid, sing her praises piercing loud.
Let hills and rocks rebounding echoes yield
Of Queen Elizabeth's long lasting fame;
Let woody groves and watery streams be filled,
And creeks and caves, with sounding of the same:
O Cambria, stretch and strain thy utmost breath,
To praise and pray for Queen Elizabeth.
Her third time ten years reign we now possess;
Thrice three times ten God grant her grace may reign
To this her realm's long wished for wealfulness,
Whereby each long erst loss it may regain:
And so redound, the happiest realm for aye,
Unturned from truth ev'n till the latter day.