WHILE men pay reverence to mighty things, They must revere thee, thou blue-cinctured isle Of England -- not to-day, but this long while In the front of nations, Mother of great kings, Soldiers, and poets. Round thee the Sea flings His steel-bright arm, and shields thee from the guile And hurt of France. Secure, with august smile, Thou sittest, and the East its tribute brings. Some say thy old-time power is on the wane, Thy moon of grandeur filled, contracts at length-- They see it darkening down from less to less. Let but a hostile hand make threat again, And they shall see thee in thy ancient strength, Each iron sinew quivering, lioness! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GHOST-BEREFT; A SCENE FROM BOGLAND IN WAR-TIME by JANE BARLOW A PRAYER FOR A LITTLE HOME by FLORENCE BONE PRAYER FOR STRENGTH by MARGARET E. BRUNER HE SHALL SPEAK PEACE by THOMAS CURTIS CLARK THE MOTHER WHO HAS A CHILD AT SEA by ELIZA COOK THE KING'S HEALTH by THOMAS D'URFEY ON SEEING A PICTURE OF THE VIRGIN MARY; A FRAGMENT by LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON |