The land of my fathers is dear unto me,
Old land where the minstrels are honored and free;
Its warring defenders so gallant and brave,
For freedom their life's blood they gave.
Home, home, true am I to home
While seas secure the land so pure
O may the old language endure.
Old land of the mountains, the Eden of bards
Each gorge and each valley a loveliness guards
Through love of my country, charmed voices will be
Its streams, and its rivers, to me.
Refrain
Though foemen have trampled my land 'neath their feet
The language of Cambria still knows no retreat
The muse is not vanquished by traitor's fell hand
Nor silenced the harp of my land.