Crowned by all Time, all Art, all Might
    The equal work of Gods and Man,
City beneath whose oldest height—
                The Race began!

Soon to send forth again a brood,
    Unshakeable, we pray, that clings,
To Rome’s thrice-hammered hardihood—
                In arduous things.

Strong heart with triple armour bound,
    Beat strongly, for thy life-blood runs,
Age after Age, the Empire round—
                In us thy Sons

Who, distant from the Seven Hills,
    Loving and serving much, require
Thee—thee to guard ’gainst home-born ills,
                The Imperial Fire!