The origins and full lyrics in English to France's iconic national anthem

Les Bleus sailed into the quarter-finals after a convincing 3-1 win over Poland, with talisman Kylian Mbappe the star of the tournament.

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Expectations on Didier Deschamps' men is at an all-time high ahead of their showdown with England as they bid to follow Italy and Brazil in successfully defending the World Cup trophy.

Along the way France have formed a bond of unity and solidarity between their players and fans which has been showcased during their iconic national anthem.

Originally written as a war song, 'La Marseillaise' was composed in 1792 by Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle in Strasbourg.

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The tune was originally titled 'Chant de guerre de l'armee du Rhin' (War Song of the Army of the Rhine) for marching troops following the declaration of war by France against Austria.

It later adopted its nickname due to it's popularity among volunteer troops from Marseille marching to France's capital Paris.

While the lyrics were originally intended to evoke themes of strength in the French army it has since evolved into a symbol of harmony.

England fans memorably joined in a rendition of the French national anthem as a sign of unity during a 2-0 win at Wembley in 2015 following the Paris attacks.

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'La Marseillaise' originally had six verses but only the first and sixth are sung in present day public events such as the World Cup.

La Marseillaise lyrics in full

Allons enfants de la Patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrive!

Contre nous de la tyrannie

L'etendard sanglant est leve

Entendez-vous dans les campagnes

Mugir ces feroces soldats?

Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras

Egorger vos fils, vos compagnes

Arise, children of the Fatherland,

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The day of glory has arrived!

Against us, tyranny's

Bloody standard is raised

Do you hear, in the countryside,

The roar of those ferocious soldiers?

They're coming right into your arms

To cut the throats of your sons, your women!

Aux armes, citoyens,

Formez vos bataillons,

Marchons, marchons!

Qu'un sang impur

Abreuve nos sillons

To arms, citizens,

Form your battalions,

March, march!

Let an impure blood

Water our furrows!

Que veut cette horde d'esclaves,

De traitres, de rois conjures?

Pour qui ces ignobles entraves,

Ces fers des longtemps prepares?

Francais, pour nous, ah! quel outrage

Quels transports il doit exciter!

C'est nous qu'on ose mediter

De rendre a l'antique esclavage!

Aux armes, citoyens…

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What does this horde of slaves,

Of traitors and conspiring kings want?

For whom have these vile chains,

These irons, been long prepared?

Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage

What furious action it must arouse!

It is to us they dare plan

A return to the old slavery!

To arms, citizens…