| |
| A SONG of hate is a song of Hell; | |
| Some there be that sing it well. | |
| Let them sing it loud and long, | |
| We lift our hearts in a loftier song: | |
| We lift our hearts to Heaven above, | 5 |
| Singing the glory of her we love,— | |
| England! | |
| |
| Glory of thought and glory of deed, | |
| Glory of Hampden and Runnymede; | |
| Glory of ships that sought far goals, | 10 |
| Glory of swords and glory of souls! | |
| Glory of songs mounting as birds, | |
| Glory immortal of magical words; | |
| Glory of Milton, glory of Nelson, | |
| Tragical glory of Gordon and Scott; | 15 |
| Glory of Shelley, glory of Sidney, | |
| Glory transcendent that perishes not,— | |
| Hers is the story, hers be the glory, | |
| England! | |
| |
| Shatter her beauteous breast ye may; | 20 |
| The spirit of England none can slay! | |
| Dash the bomb on the dome of Paul’s— | |
| Deem ye the fame of the Admiral falls? | |
| Pry the stone from the chancel floor,— | |
| Dream ye that Shakespeare shall live no more? | 25 |
| Where is the giant shot that kills | |
| Wordsworth walking the old green hills? | |
| Trample the red rose on the ground,— | |
| Keats is Beauty while earth spins round! | |
| Bind her, grind her, burn her with fire, | 30 |
| Cast her ashes into the sea,— | |
| She shall escape, she shall aspire, | |
| She shall arise to make men free: | |
| She shall arise in a sacred scorn, | |
| Lighting the lives that are yet unborn; | 35 |
| Spirit supernal, Splendour eternal, | |
| ENGLAND! | |
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