Young England''"what is then become of Old, Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead, Dead to the very name? Presumption fed On empty air! That name will keep its hold In the true filial bosom's inmost fold For ever.''"The Spirit of Alfred, at the head Of all who for her rights watched, toiled and bled, Knows that this prophecy is not too bold. What''"how! shall she submit in will and deed To Beardless Boys''"an imitative race, The servum pecus of a Gallic breed? Dear Mother! if thou must thy steps retrace, Go where at least meek Innocency dwells; Let Babes and Sucklings be thy oracles. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PENITENTIAL PSALM: 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by THOMAS WYATT SONNET: 46 by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN ON SOMETHING THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE by BEN JONSON THE WATCH OF A SWAN by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT VAN ELSEN by FREDERICK GEORGE SCOTT SONNET: 20. A FAREWELL by PHILIP SIDNEY |