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252 ELIZABETH TOWNSEND SWIFT
��FROM AMERICA
Oh, England, at the smoking trenches dying
For all the world, Our hearts beat and we watch your bright flag flying
While ours is furled ;
We who are neutral (yet each lip with fervor
The word abjures) : Oh, England, never name us the time-server I
Our hearts are yours :
We that so glory in your high decision,
So trust your goal ; All Europe in our blood, but yours our vision,
Our speech, our soul !
— Elizabeth Townsend Swift.
�� �