William Cowper

A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun,
It gives a light to every age,
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A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun,
It gives a light to every age,
It gives, but borrows none.

Toil for the brave!
The brave that are no more.

Toil for the brave!
The brave that are no more.

All learned, and all drunk!

All learned, and all drunk!

The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
Cry hem; and reading what they never wrote
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!

England with all thy faults, I love thee still--
My country! and, while yet a nook is left
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England with all thy faults, I love thee still--
My country! and, while yet a nook is left
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrained to love thee.