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| Country | Lyric |
|---|---|
O! say can you see by the dawn's early light | |
With glowing hearts we see thee rise / The True North strong and free! | |
God save our gracious Queen / Long live our noble Queen | |
This is the country of every tribe / The land of Balochs and Uzbeks / Pashtuns and Hazaras / Turkmens and Tajiks | |
Beneath our radiant Southern Cross / We'll toil with hearts and hands | |
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal / 'Mid cannon's roar and rifles' peal / We'll chant a soldier's song | |
And onward, towards the ends of the east / An eye still gazes toward Zion | |
A prince of Orange / am I, free and fearless | |
Pity, God, the Magyar, then / Long by waves of danger tossed | |
Souls and bodies we'll lay down, all for our freedom / And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation! | |
Arise! All those who don't want to be slaves! / Let our flesh and blood forge our new Great Wall! | |
From the bones arisen / of the Hellenes, the sacred | |
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas / Mingles in the music of Jamuna and Ganges | |
And the saga night that sends / dreams to our earth | |
You are the seat of Peter, whose blood was shed in Rome | |
Vile despots would have themselves / The masters of our destinies! / To arms, citizens | |
The gold star afluttering / Leading the people of our native land out of misery and suffering | |
From the southern seas to the polar lands / Spread are our forests and fields |
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