X.

On every side now Britain’s foes repelled Feel that to stand before her might is vain; Our strong position is securely held-- Lords of the mountain, masters of the plain From Vascongada’s frontier to the main. Our batteries planted on the bloody hill Before the Virgin’s shrine their death-shot rain From far Illurdos to Elcano’s rill, From towering Cristovál to Oricain at will.