Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/165

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TO ENGLAND
143

Welcomes the poorest, as to realms enchanted,
And makes them English, all!


And still, the elder, in the hour of danger,
The bond of kinship never quite forgot,
Speaks with commanding accent to the stranger:
"Be heedful; touch her not!"


Oh, we have felt—have felt with one another,
Sharing each other's hope, each other's dread;
And we have wept, as children of one mother,
Mourning our cherished dead.


Is 't for ourselves this friendship hath caressed us—
That Heaven hath strengthened so the English speech?
Nay; God forbid! the mercy that hath blessed us
Hath a diviner reach!


If with new strength there come not larger kindness,
Men's banners, proudly borne, were better furled;
If we no longer see, for selfish blindness,
Beyond our realms, the world,—