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Men of England! who inherit
Rights that cost your sires their blood.
Men of England! who inherit
Rights that cost your sires their blood.
Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
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Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf,
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England--now.
England is a paradise for women, and hell for horses: Italy is a
paradise for horses, hell for women.
England is a paradise for women, and hell for horses: Italy is a
paradise for horses, hell for women.
Providence has given to the French the empire of the land, to the
English that of the sea, to read more
Providence has given to the French the empire of the land, to the
English that of the sea, to the Germans that of--the air!
Bind her, grind her, burn her with fire,
Cast her ashes into the sea,--
She shall escape, read more
Bind her, grind her, burn her with fire,
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,
Spirit supernal, splendor eternal,
England!
In these troublesome days when the great
Mother Empire stands splendidly isolated in Europe.
In these troublesome days when the great
Mother Empire stands splendidly isolated in Europe.
Those pigmy tribes of Panton street,
Those hardy blades, those hearts of oak,
Obedient to a tyrant's read more
Those pigmy tribes of Panton street,
Those hardy blades, those hearts of oak,
Obedient to a tyrant's yoke.
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.
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
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If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.