Lord, for the years of ease and vice,
For hearts unmanned and souls decayed,
Thou hast required a sacrifice—
A bitter and a bloody price—
And lo! the price is paid.
We have given all things that were ours,
So that our weeds might yet be flowers;
We have covered half the earth with gore
That our houses might be homes once more
The sword Thou hast demanded, Lord:
And, now, behold the sword!
England
HER seed is sown about the world. The seas
For Her have path'd their waters. She is known
In swamps that steam about the burning zone,
And dreaded in the last white lands that freeze.
For Her the glory that was Nineveh's
Is nought: the pomp of Tyre and Babylon
Nought: and for all the realms that Cæsar won—
One tithe of hers were more than all of these.
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