Duty! shorn of which the wisest
And the best were little worth,
How with dignity thou risest
O'er the littleness of earth:
How thou blessest each condition
Shedding peace and glory round,
Even binding hot Ambition
In thy service to be found!

Duty,-- though the lot be lowly,
God's broad-arrow thou art seen
Making very trifles holy,
And exalting what were mean;
In this thought the poor may revel
That, obeying Duty's word,
Lowliness is on a level
With my lady or my lord.

Duty,-- seen in lofty station
As the brightest jewel there,
Providence doth bless the nation
Where thy badge its rulers bear;
England! God regards with favour
Both thy Queen and People too,
For that, Duty's precious savour
Still is found in all they do.