WINDS of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro— | |
| And what should they know of England who only England know?— | |
| The poor little street-bred people that vapour and fume and brag, | |
| They are lifting their heads in the stillness to yelp at the English Flag! | |
| |
| Must we borrow a clout from the Boer—to plaster anew with dirt? | 5 |
| An Irish liar’s bandage, or an English coward’s shirt? | |
| We may not speak of England; her Flag’s to sell or share. | |
| What is the Flag of England? Winds of the World, declare! | |
| |
| The North Wind blew:—“From Bergen my steel-shod vanguards go; | |
| “I chase your lazy whalers home from the Disko floe. | 10 |
| “By the great North Lights above me I work the will of God, | |
| “And the liner splits on the ice-field or the Dogger fills with cod. | |
| |
| “I barred my gates with iron, I shuttered my doors with flame, | |
| “Because to force my ramparts your nutshell navies came. | |
| “I took the sun from their presence, I cut them down with my blast, | 15 |
| “And they died, but the Flag of England blew free ere the spirit passed. | |
| |
| “The lean white bear hath seen it in the long, long Arctic nights, | |
| “The musk-ox knows the standard that flouts the Northern Lights: | |
| “What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my bergs to dare, | |
| “Ye have but my drifts to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!” | 20 |
| |
| The South Wind sighed:—“From the Virgins my mid-sea course was ta’en | |
| “Over a thousand islands lost in an idle main, | |
| “Where the sea-egg flames on the coral and the long-backed breakers croon | |
| “Their endless ocean legends to the lazy, locked lagoon. | |
| |
| “Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer keys, | 25 |
| “I waked the palms to laughter—I tossed the scud in the breeze. | |
| “Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, | |
| “But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown. | |
| |
| “I have wrenched it free from the halliards to hang for a wisp on the Horn; | |
| “I have chased it north to the Lizard—ribboned and rolled and torn; | 30 |
| “I have spread its fold o’er the dying, adrift in a hopeless sea; | |
| “I have hurled it swift on the slaver, and seen the slave set free. | |
| |
| “My basking sunfish know it, and wheeling albatross, | |
| “Where the lone wave fills with fire beneath the Southern Cross. | |
| “What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my reefs to dare, | 35 |
| “Ye have but my seas to furrow. Go forth, for it is there!” | |
| |
| The East Wind roared:—“From the Kuriles, the Bitter Seas, I come, | |
| “And me men call the Home-Wind, for I bring the English home. | |
| “Look—look well to your shipping! By breath of my mad typhoon | |
| “I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your best at Kowloon! | 40 |
| |
| “The reeling junks behind me and the racing seas before, | |
| “I raped your richest roadstead—I plundered Singapore! | |
| “I set my hand on the Hoogli; as a hooded snake she rose; | |
| “And I flung your stoutest steamers to roost with the startled crows. | |
| |
| “Never the lotos closes, never the wild-fowl wake, | 45 |
| “But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died for England’s sake— | |
| “Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride or maid— | |
| “Because on the bones of the English the English Flag is stayed. | |
| |
| “The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-ass knows, | |
| “The scared white leopard winds it across the taintless snows. | 50 |
| “What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my sun to dare, | |
| “Ye have but my sands to travel. Go forth, for it is there!” | |
| |
| The West Wind called:—“In squadrons the thoughtless galleons fly | |
| “That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred people die. | |
| “They make my might their porter, they make my house their path, | 55 |
| “Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm them all in my wrath. | |
| |
| “I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn from the hole, | |
| “They bellow one to the other, the frighted ship-bells toll, | |
| “For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath, | |
| “And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death. | 60 |
| |
| “But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by dark or day, | |
| “I heave them whole to the conger or rip their plates away, | |
| “First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky, | |
| “Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes by. | |
| |
| “The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it—the frozen dews have kissed— | 65 |
| “The naked stars have seen it, a fellow-star in the mist. | |
| “What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my breath to dare, | |
| “Ye have but my waves to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!” | |
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