 | Under Arms |  |
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UNDER ARMS.
First of the Nations! Britain, from her towns
And country fields flock forth much youth to arms.
O'er seas, warbound, sail many valorous bands.
Burns one Imperial heart in every breast.
And country fields flock forth much youth to arms.
O'er seas, warbound, sail many valorous bands.
Burns one Imperial heart in every breast.
Proud Scots, stout Irish, with great England's soldiers,
Be like three strands, whereof one cable twined,
Together hold safe-riding this good ship,
Which tempest cannot shake, of Britain's State.
Be like three strands, whereof one cable twined,
Together hold safe-riding this good ship,
Which tempest cannot shake, of Britain's State.
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BRITAIN'S BANNER.
Britain's broad banner noble ensign is
Of the World's freedom, where o'er land and seas
It flies, like shadow of strong eagle's wings.
Thereunder many tongues and peoples rest.
—Is this our Empire as the earth is wide.
Of the World's freedom, where o'er land and seas
It flies, like shadow of strong eagle's wings.
Thereunder many tongues and peoples rest.
—Is this our Empire as the earth is wide.
Britain and her Imperial daughter lands
The mighty stem and great-grown branches are
Of one tall spreading cedar. They now send,
One Nation forth, from many shores, their sons.
The mighty stem and great-grown branches are
Of one tall spreading cedar. They now send,
One Nation forth, from many shores, their sons.
In Afric's soil these knit, where they take land,
Against a common foe, their force in arms.
Where since they shed one blood from many wounds.
Against a common foe, their force in arms.
Where since they shed one blood from many wounds.
Blow out broad glorious banner! For each one
Of Britain's great Imperial daughter lands,
Broider we this sure token, a clear star,
Amid the righteous ensign of our Queen.
Of Britain's great Imperial daughter lands,
Broider we this sure token, a clear star,
Amid the righteous ensign of our Queen.
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OUR MARCH.
Lead on! With music in our hearts we march
Long in endurance, Britons, aye put on,
Comrades, new strength. Are we in all the path,
Ready to battle: certain only is,
That every man must die in age or youth.
Long in endurance, Britons, aye put on,
Comrades, new strength. Are we in all the path,
Ready to battle: certain only is,
That every man must die in age or youth.
Come life, come death, we soldiers live these days,
In the hearts of the whole Nation; as who play,
In England's spring fields, many a manly game,
In sight of a great multitude that look on,
And all those any hardy deed applaud.
In the hearts of the whole Nation; as who play,
In England's spring fields, many a manly game,
In sight of a great multitude that look on,
And all those any hardy deed applaud.
Comrades, we which bear arms have vowed our youth,
To warlike honour; who remain at home,
We would some tidings they might daily hear
Still of our good endeavour and proud deeds—
Deeds worthy of Britain. And who wounded fall,
And which of us shall die a soldier's death,
Shall honoured be his name at thousand hearths:
And praise us shall all English hearts and bless.
To warlike honour; who remain at home,
We would some tidings they might daily hear
Still of our good endeavour and proud deeds—
Deeds worthy of Britain. And who wounded fall,
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Shall honoured be his name at thousand hearths:
And praise us shall all English hearts and bless.
Aye, and better are these now heroic days
Of battle and long march, in cold, in heat,
Sleeps broken, night alarms, in dry and wet;
Which all occasions are to valiant soldiers,
Show worthy service, than when we at home
Ignobly oft consumed the idle hours
In treacherous drink and vice of soldiers' life.
Of battle and long march, in cold, in heat,
Sleeps broken, night alarms, in dry and wet;
Which all occasions are to valiant soldiers,
Show worthy service, than when we at home
Ignobly oft consumed the idle hours
In treacherous drink and vice of soldiers' life.
Then rather welcome that we now endure,
Warfare's misease; is the air a fiery breath,
Burdenous this sun, our water foul and scant,
Powdered with dust our meat, and rent our cloth!
Warfare's misease; is the air a fiery breath,
Burdenous this sun, our water foul and scant,
Powdered with dust our meat, and rent our cloth!
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Hark! calls shrill bugle note; halt, we encamp.
Comrades sign is our twilight weariness,
That we have wrought, to-day a soldier's work.
At length we sit our camp fires round to eat,
And hardly may our eyes withhold from sleep.
But, and the foe assail in this dim night
Should spring new manhood in our jaded knees.
Comrades sign is our twilight weariness,
That we have wrought, to-day a soldier's work.
At length we sit our camp fires round to eat,
And hardly may our eyes withhold from sleep.
But, and the foe assail in this dim night
Should spring new manhood in our jaded knees.
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OUR CAMP.
Comrades, are we as brethren in one camp,
Which like a family is of our fellow soldiers,
And who commands a father to us all.
Which like a family is of our fellow soldiers,
And who commands a father to us all.
Pleasant, pitched in the field, in hostile soil,
The common canvas is which shelters soldiers,
Wherein, in aught brief daily pause of arms,
We rest, we eat, sing, discourse of this war,
Furbish our weapons, and who mend their cloth.
The common canvas is which shelters soldiers,
Wherein, in aught brief daily pause of arms,
We rest, we eat, sing, discourse of this war,
Furbish our weapons, and who mend their cloth.
Honour to him who the Queen's tunic wears!
Keep the Queen's weapons bright! your bodies pure,
Honest, in health and, as becometh soldiers,
To a manly cheerfulness your minds composed,
Britons wont other men in fortitude
Excel by sea, by land, in life, in death.
Keep the Queen's weapons bright! your bodies pure,
Honest, in health and, as becometh soldiers,
To a manly cheerfulness your minds composed,
Britons wont other men in fortitude
Excel by sea, by land, in life, in death.
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Valiant young men ye daily in the field,
Win glory to this Nation by stout deeds!
Nor less found generous England's simple soldiers,
And gentle always of their martial hands,
To an hurt foe and who surrenders arms:
They share with them their water and their bread.
Win glory to this Nation by stout deeds!
Nor less found generous England's simple soldiers,
And gentle always of their martial hands,
To an hurt foe and who surrenders arms:
They share with them their water and their bread.
Those whom we left at home send after gifts,
Whereby we know that follow us their hearts.
Whereby we know that follow us their hearts.
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THE NIGHT-WATCH.
Now after battle-peril, the long day
And march, the soldier sleeps: and of the dear
Home-land dreams he. For season is of rest,
Even in this warfare. Some go forth to watch
In arms their turn, for safety of the camp.
And march, the soldier sleeps: and of the dear
Home-land dreams he. For season is of rest,
Even in this warfare. Some go forth to watch
In arms their turn, for safety of the camp.
Dim wheels the lofty night o'er his lone post,
Cold now, now sultry, and like a starry frost,
The sentinel thinks of God, his life, swift death;
He comrades numbers fallen in his sight:
Beholds in stars the cross writ in these heavens.
And deems the Lord of yond great glittering house,
Will not impute the soldier's sins forepast,
Who daily adventures life, for country's sake,
In field, and when he looks not, receives death.
Cold now, now sultry, and like a starry frost,
The sentinel thinks of God, his life, swift death;
He comrades numbers fallen in his sight:
Beholds in stars the cross writ in these heavens.
And deems the Lord of yond great glittering house,
Will not impute the soldier's sins forepast,
Who daily adventures life, for country's sake,
In field, and when he looks not, receives death.
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Weary, his weapon ready in his hand,
Erect, he listens each uncertain sound,
Far from his comrades, that in their dark camp
Now slumber.—Heard he then a distant shot!
Attent stands he, to challenge aught strange voice,
He nothing yields to body's weariness.
He at his hour will be relieved, to-night.
Under these stars then will he also sleep,
Where now upclimbs the moon's broad steadfast face;
Erect, he listens each uncertain sound,
Far from his comrades, that in their dark camp
Now slumber.—Heard he then a distant shot!
Attent stands he, to challenge aught strange voice,
He nothing yields to body's weariness.
He at his hour will be relieved, to-night.
Under these stars then will he also sleep,
Where now upclimbs the moon's broad steadfast face;
And this hour haply at home whom he loves best,
Look on the night and muse in distant Britain,
How we in Afric's warfare lead our lives.
Look on the night and muse in distant Britain,
How we in Afric's warfare lead our lives.
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THE FIELD OF HONOUR.
Poor men, sons of poor men, are Britain's soldiers,
But gentle in heart, and aye were approved rich
In glory and manhood, whereso in the world
Their warfare found. We lift to heaven our hearts,
Entering in battle, as becometh soldiers.
But gentle in heart, and aye were approved rich
In glory and manhood, whereso in the world
Their warfare found. We lift to heaven our hearts,
Entering in battle, as becometh soldiers.
Great is this enemy's crime: God will repay
Them, and our hands. Hold true your weapons, soldiers!
Them, and our hands. Hold true your weapons, soldiers!
Adin tremendous of the cannon's throat!
Shrieks rend the aery skies of the great shot!
Shells iron hurricane, that burst hideous,
Midst the army! Hiss aloft of infinite lead,
Where flies a deadly sleet. Now on every hand,
Wounds to red blood, men stricken without life,
Our comrades fall. And yet our foes we see not,
Are hidden in covert holes under the ground.
Shrieks rend the aery skies of the great shot!
Shells iron hurricane, that burst hideous,
Midst the army! Hiss aloft of infinite lead,
Where flies a deadly sleet. Now on every hand,
Wounds to red blood, men stricken without life,
Our comrades fall. And yet our foes we see not,
Are hidden in covert holes under the ground.
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And is the moment come, my God, of death?
Is this the place where I must ever sleep?
In Thee I trust, my God! in Thee I trust.
And shall I endure pain, will I not shrink,
Who 'scape alive, give them, Lord, my good part!
—This may they tell another day at home.
Is this the place where I must ever sleep?
In Thee I trust, my God! in Thee I trust.
And shall I endure pain, will I not shrink,
Who 'scape alive, give them, Lord, my good part!
—This may they tell another day at home.
Lo! when we stand before the enemy's face,
One battle rank, of one heart, and one breath,
Britons, one blood, that for our country fight,
Small difference is where all do generous deeds,
'Twixt who is gentle born and simple soldiers.
One battle rank, of one heart, and one breath,
Britons, one blood, that for our country fight,
Small difference is where all do generous deeds,
'Twixt who is gentle born and simple soldiers.
Die nobly can the poor man as the rich,
And who is high and who is lowly placed,
Contend now only in manhood; and who fall,
Graved in the battle-field, they comrades lie,
Where side by side for ever they await
The mercy of Heaven on their worthy deaths.
And who is high and who is lowly placed,
Contend now only in manhood; and who fall,
Graved in the battle-field, they comrades lie,
Where side by side for ever they await
The mercy of Heaven on their worthy deaths.
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How oft 'mongst Britons, one heroic seed,
Is seen, his officer snatch the poor man's son,
With peril of his life in field from death;
Nor seen more seldom valorous simple soldier
His captain save with jeopardy of his own.
Is seen, his officer snatch the poor man's son,
With peril of his life in field from death;
Nor seen more seldom valorous simple soldier
His captain save with jeopardy of his own.
In every age before us have men laid
Down willingly, for divers worthy cause,
Their faithful lives, and martyrs marched to death.
Down willingly, for divers worthy cause,
Their faithful lives, and martyrs marched to death.
Cast in so darksome and uneasy world
Our lot, we in whom desire of honour burns,
None better ending to a true man's life
Discern than fall for Country; as goeth down,
Unto his glorious rest, an harvest sun.
—For the life of this Nation be our deaths!
Our lot, we in whom desire of honour burns,
None better ending to a true man's life
Discern than fall for Country; as goeth down,
Unto his glorious rest, an harvest sun.
—For the life of this Nation be our deaths!
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Before us thousand thousand England's soldiers,
In many former fields, have fallen in fight.
By them this Island-Kingdom hath received
Renown 'bove all which in the world made wars;
Whose sons be we, and who beyond the seas,
Our brethren born of one Imperial blood.
In many former fields, have fallen in fight.
By them this Island-Kingdom hath received
Renown 'bove all which in the world made wars;
Whose sons be we, and who beyond the seas,
Our brethren born of one Imperial blood.
Stern, of brave soldiers, is the battle strife,
Till this blue bayonet steel of ours invade
The foemens' bodies and drip purple dyed.
Till this blue bayonet steel of ours invade
The foemens' bodies and drip purple dyed.
Give him who asks it quarter, for God's sake,
But spare no treason, murder merits death.
But spare no treason, murder merits death.
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WOUNDS.
Soldiers, through wounds obtain we glorious scars.
Titles be these of honour in our flesh,
(Which we in England's warfare have received),
Till our lives' ending. Who is stricken down
To death in battle, gathered shall be laid
Out of his comrades' arms to soldiers' rest.
Titles be these of honour in our flesh,
(Which we in England's warfare have received),
Till our lives' ending. Who is stricken down
To death in battle, gathered shall be laid
Out of his comrades' arms to soldiers' rest.
Sacred of sand and grass the silent grave,
Fenced with wild stones be in vast field henceforth,
Whereon, behold! last honour of the dead,
Few flowers, have twined his comrades hands, be laid.
Thus left we him with God. None evil beast,
Nor carrion fowl may pasture on his flesh.
Fenced with wild stones be in vast field henceforth,
Whereon, behold! last honour of the dead,
Few flowers, have twined his comrades hands, be laid.
Thus left we him with God. None evil beast,
Nor carrion fowl may pasture on his flesh.
Strong gentle hands, where it rains death, uplift,
Who wounded lie: are (swarthy though their looks),
All faithful sons of Britain's empire wide.
Who wounded lie: are (swarthy though their looks),
All faithful sons of Britain's empire wide.
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Come is thy day, hurt soldier of the Queen,
Of weakness, when to hospital thou art borne.
It is an haven where, weary, thou hast pause
Sometime secure, from strife and dust of wars.
Of weakness, when to hospital thou art borne.
It is an haven where, weary, thou hast pause
Sometime secure, from strife and dust of wars.
How pious these white gentlewomen's hands!
Which wash, which bind, with healing salves our wounds,
Which with kind looks by day, by night keep watch,
They strong, we weak, to heal our fevered flesh.
Which wash, which bind, with healing salves our wounds,
Which with kind looks by day, by night keep watch,
They strong, we weak, to heal our fevered flesh.
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THE SOLDIER'S GRAVE.
Tread softly where there lies a soldier's grave,
In the waste field, or on the mountain side.
Where many in comely rows these lowly mounds,
Shall seem a garden not a mourning place.
In the waste field, or on the mountain side.
Where many in comely rows these lowly mounds,
Shall seem a garden not a mourning place.
Shall honour who live in the days to come,
Our latest kindred guard this faithful dust!
Which fell for Britain in her battle ranks.
Our latest kindred guard this faithful dust!
Which fell for Britain in her battle ranks.
Brief is his pain who falls without disease
Before his foeman's face. To heaven ascend
Like to an holy incense with his soul
The Nation's prayers unto his endless rest.
Before his foeman's face. To heaven ascend
Like to an holy incense with his soul
The Nation's prayers unto his endless rest.
We bare our heads at an unlettered grave,
Which mark few gathered stones in land far off,
Whereunder some slain soldier glorious sleeps.
Returned his comrades, they the pit, they digged
In haste, have deckt, lo! round as maiden neat.
Which mark few gathered stones in land far off,
Whereunder some slain soldier glorious sleeps.
Returned his comrades, they the pit, they digged
In haste, have deckt, lo! round as maiden neat.
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What greater comfort unto dying heart
Whose eyelids close to that eternal sleep
Which all awaits, who yieldeth now his breath
(Though now at noonday goeth down his sun),
Than to have well God's trust used of his life.
Whose eyelids close to that eternal sleep
Which all awaits, who yieldeth now his breath
(Though now at noonday goeth down his sun),
Than to have well God's trust used of his life.
Who would not say, is better than their life,
That rust at home, and rot in idleness,
Heroic warfare and swift soldier's death.
That rust at home, and rot in idleness,
Heroic warfare and swift soldier's death.
Nor small their honour which at home remain,
Some of their kindred in this war have lost.
They shall not mourn nor grieve as other men,
They shall not grudge. The soldiers' widows' bread
Is sure, and shall not orphans be their babes.
Some of their kindred in this war have lost.
They shall not mourn nor grieve as other men,
They shall not grudge. The soldiers' widows' bread
Is sure, and shall not orphans be their babes.
But longs my soul, and burns my heart, and pants
This breast, dear Foster Land! How sweet it were
To fall, to die for Thee, an hundred deaths!
This breast, dear Foster Land! How sweet it were
To fall, to die for Thee, an hundred deaths!
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THE HOME-COMING.
Soldiers which have this stubborn war achieved,
Return with glory now in hundred ships.
Speed, Oh fair winds of heaven! their homeward voyage!
Lie low before their keels proud ocean waves.
And ye which rule the immense machines spur on
These mighty hulls to land of distant Britain.
Return with glory now in hundred ships.
Speed, Oh fair winds of heaven! their homeward voyage!
Lie low before their keels proud ocean waves.
And ye which rule the immense machines spur on
These mighty hulls to land of distant Britain.
Remember, Comrades, when from England's shores,
With merry music and glad people's voice,
We parted; and what joy in all our hearts,
Which called were to see service! How we sailed
Then forth in deep blue rolling liquid paths
Far from world's coast, by vast sea wilderness,
Where day by day suspended seemed our ship,
Nor appeared way, nor any human work,
Nor voice. Yet saw we, ere our souls were weary,
Before us loom, at end, of Afric's land.
Land of this warfare; where then we disbarked,
With shining arms, beheld much new and strange;
Grown since well wont to us warfaring soldiers.
With merry music and glad people's voice,
We parted; and what joy in all our hearts,
Which called were to see service! How we sailed
Then forth in deep blue rolling liquid paths
Far from world's coast, by vast sea wilderness,
Where day by day suspended seemed our ship,
Nor appeared way, nor any human work,
Nor voice. Yet saw we, ere our souls were weary,
Before us loom, at end, of Afric's land.
Land of this warfare; where then we disbarked,
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Grown since well wont to us warfaring soldiers.
And were we come, deliver, in far coast,
Our brethren from those brutish enemies,
That liberty, ah! called their license to oppress.
Our brethren from those brutish enemies,
That liberty, ah! called their license to oppress.
Comrades homebound, when we again take land,
In every town wherethrough we marching pass,
Shall holiday be, with pealing bells, proclaimed;
Glad multitudes shall acclaim, with infinite throats,
The Queen's returning soldiers in their streets.
In every town wherethrough we marching pass,
Shall holiday be, with pealing bells, proclaimed;
Glad multitudes shall acclaim, with infinite throats,
The Queen's returning soldiers in their streets.
They to high heaven loud welcome! joyful shout,
Stretching with kind familiar looks to us,
Right hands. And who can touch a soldier's cloak,
Shall count it honour. Mothers shall uplift
(Midst joyous cries of these) their little ones,
With happy tears; and still they bid them gaze,
On the Queen's sun-browned soldiers from the wars.
Stretching with kind familiar looks to us,
Right hands. And who can touch a soldier's cloak,
Shall count it honour. Mothers shall uplift
(Midst joyous cries of these) their little ones,
With happy tears; and still they bid them gaze,
On the Queen's sun-browned soldiers from the wars.
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The citizens music plays us through their town,
And when this night falls will they light the skies
With shooting lamps and starry works of fire.
And when this night falls will they light the skies
With shooting lamps and starry works of fire.
Women, who mothers, smile, who promised maids,
With sweet looks wave to us those true white hands,
Which for us manifold gifts wrought in this war,
And sing they all together with glad voice,
“Are come again the soldiers of the Queen,
“Welcome, brave remnant of them which marched down,
“With prayers of the whole Nation to the ships!”
With sweet looks wave to us those true white hands,
Which for us manifold gifts wrought in this war,
And sing they all together with glad voice,
“Are come again the soldiers of the Queen,
“Welcome, brave remnant of them which marched down,
“With prayers of the whole Nation to the ships!”
Now is there signal made, we re-embark,—
Afric farewell! the bugle calls to ship,
Our service done in many glorious fields,
Lie ploughed with iron and sowed with leaden shot.
Silent, but not forsaken, where we leave
Our comrades graves. Sacred be and adorned
That churlish earth, which must them hold henceforth,
By hands of grateful ages yet to live.
Afric farewell! the bugle calls to ship,
Our service done in many glorious fields,
Lie ploughed with iron and sowed with leaden shot.
Silent, but not forsaken, where we leave
Our comrades graves. Sacred be and adorned
That churlish earth, which must them hold henceforth,
By hands of grateful ages yet to live.
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Lie low, ye waves! Speed, Heaven, these gallant ships
Bear to the Mother Land her warworn soldiers!
Britain's returning army shall receive
A Nation's praise for all their pains forepast.
Bear to the Mother Land her warworn soldiers!
Britain's returning army shall receive
A Nation's praise for all their pains forepast.
Behold Her who rules in all Britons' hearts,
A Mother to her People, in her state
Through London, welcomed rides, to yond green place,
Where marshalled Afric's armies her await.
Are foot and horse and voluntary soldiers
Who ventured their young lives alike to death.
A Mother to her People, in her state
Through London, welcomed rides, to yond green place,
Where marshalled Afric's armies her await.
Are foot and horse and voluntary soldiers
Who ventured their young lives alike to death.
One meed of valour shines on all your breasts;
Ride your great Captains round about the Queen.
And with her stand the Nation's Parliament.
From the Empress-Queen's august wise-aged lips,
Hark! proceed thanks, that so beyond the seas
Have well done their endeavour Britain's soldiers.
—Her words resound an infinite people's voice!
Ride your great Captains round about the Queen.
And with her stand the Nation's Parliament.
From the Empress-Queen's august wise-aged lips,
Hark! proceed thanks, that so beyond the seas
Have well done their endeavour Britain's soldiers.
—Her words resound an infinite people's voice!
Speed heaven! to Britain's shores these mighty prows:
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THE QUEEN'S MEDALS.
Shine as bright stars on your heroic breasts,
Soldiers which come again home from the wars,
Badges of silver and enduring bronze,
Whereon, to endless ages, well impressed,
Victoria's august image shall be seen.
Who mater patriæ there undying writ
(So have a grateful Nation titled her),
Beloved of all her Peoples, Empress-Queen.
Soldiers which come again home from the wars,
Badges of silver and enduring bronze,
Whereon, to endless ages, well impressed,
Victoria's august image shall be seen.
Who mater patriæ there undying writ
(So have a grateful Nation titled her),
Beloved of all her Peoples, Empress-Queen.
These make you to be honoured in all eyes.
Tokens are they in Afric's field ye strove,
Where many have laid down, in Britain's cause,
Their strong young lives, and shed their generous blood:
Whence ye returned, a few, in stedfast ranks.
Tokens are they in Afric's field ye strove,
Where many have laid down, in Britain's cause,
Their strong young lives, and shed their generous blood:
Whence ye returned, a few, in stedfast ranks.
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Young men and who grey-headed shall uprise,
To yield them honour, whom they see adorns
The meed of valour, ye have manly earned.
To yield them honour, whom they see adorns
The meed of valour, ye have manly earned.
Is this the glory of your generous youth!
The valourous old soldiers shall you praise,
And call you comrades.—Who is there not covets
Honour, him count less than a man of worth.
The valourous old soldiers shall you praise,
And call you comrades.—Who is there not covets
Honour, him count less than a man of worth.
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THE COMING DAYS.
And have we won through our victorious arms,
Now respite from the wars; already frowns
Dire tempest which must fall upon the world
Nigh to our shores, and shall be greater wars.
Now respite from the wars; already frowns
Dire tempest which must fall upon the world
Nigh to our shores, and shall be greater wars.
So long the Lion slumbered that he seemed
Nigh dead; descended yelling from the woods
Wolves and flocked vultures greedy of his great blood.
They looked his mighty inheritance soon divide.
Nigh dead; descended yelling from the woods
Wolves and flocked vultures greedy of his great blood.
They looked his mighty inheritance soon divide.
But for that time did the decree of Heaven
Their dark designs frustrate, sending, which stung
The eyelid of that Lion, an hornet base.
Yawning he roused him, and stretched forth his paws
And fled those beasts of ravin and fell birds.
Their dark designs frustrate, sending, which stung
The eyelid of that Lion, an hornet base.
Yawning he roused him, and stretched forth his paws
And fled those beasts of ravin and fell birds.
Ware thee to sleep, Lion, in thy pride henceforth!
Lest thou be taken tardy, in evil day,
When many assembling mighty hunters round thee
Shall shoot darts and their nets would on thee cast.
Rouse thee, Oh Generous! Heaven renews thy youth.
Dream no more vain illusions of the night,
That with thee slumber all wild beasts in forest.
Lest thou be taken tardy, in evil day,
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Shall shoot darts and their nets would on thee cast.
Rouse thee, Oh Generous! Heaven renews thy youth.
Dream no more vain illusions of the night,
That with thee slumber all wild beasts in forest.
Since only in strength, in a malignant world,
Is surety, be we a Nation alway armed;
Maintain our just dominion on the seas,
Prepare our land defence 'gainst mighty armies.
Is surety, be we a Nation alway armed;
Maintain our just dominion on the seas,
Prepare our land defence 'gainst mighty armies.
Only a People armed 'gainst every chance
May dwell in safety. Who then England's sons
In skill of arms be hardened all your hands!
May dwell in safety. Who then England's sons
In skill of arms be hardened all your hands!
And (like as men in every trade of life
That look to thrive) their calling, who lead soldiers,
Still meditate, expecting always wars.
Not given o'ermuch to ease by day or night,
Devising aye our foes new ambushes.
That look to thrive) their calling, who lead soldiers,
Still meditate, expecting always wars.
Not given o'ermuch to ease by day or night,
Devising aye our foes new ambushes.
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And who in Britain, Archimedes' sons,
(And in this kind our Nation won't excel)
Bend still your subtle minds to find machines
And new inventions of all warlike engines,
Searching hid forces that in Nature work.
(And in this kind our Nation won't excel)
Bend still your subtle minds to find machines
And new inventions of all warlike engines,
Searching hid forces that in Nature work.
How should grow green then Britain's fruitful field
Each year with spring, and bring forth martial buds.
And ye chief Captains of our arms which rule
From your high seat, in the great nations' race,
The iron cart of war, that proudly bears
Britain's broad banner, still the van may hold.
Each year with spring, and bring forth martial buds.
And ye chief Captains of our arms which rule
From your high seat, in the great nations' race,
The iron cart of war, that proudly bears
Britain's broad banner, still the van may hold.
So we that mighty Empire we received
From God unminished to our sons may leave.
From God unminished to our sons may leave.
29
THE NEW MILITARY SERVICE
Are called the youth of Britain to bear arms
As many as be approved shall serve as soldiers.
Is debt, Oh our sons! that Mother Land defend,
Which nourished you of the fulness of her breast.
As many as be approved shall serve as soldiers.
Is debt, Oh our sons! that Mother Land defend,
Which nourished you of the fulness of her breast.
This sacrifice shall purify all hearts!
—And hark! who chosen an imperial soldier,
Sound of his limbs and sighted well to shoot,
It is his manly honour, to whose hands
Shall trusted be to-day the Nation's arms.
In sign whereof ye put on the Queen's cloth.
—And hark! who chosen an imperial soldier,
Sound of his limbs and sighted well to shoot,
It is his manly honour, to whose hands
Shall trusted be to-day the Nation's arms.
In sign whereof ye put on the Queen's cloth.
How seems their manhood with new beauty adorned,
Erect, well knit, and strong to every proof!
On them, the fair-faced maidens proudly look,
That ward all foreign perils from our shores,
And willing were to serve beyond the seas,
Aye! and faithful should be found to death in wars.
Erect, well knit, and strong to every proof!
On them, the fair-faced maidens proudly look,
That ward all foreign perils from our shores,
And willing were to serve beyond the seas,
Aye! and faithful should be found to death in wars.
30
Lo! all the sons of Britain in one rank,
Ready, for love of country, in their fresh youth!
And know that England's mighty Empire stands
Fast by the warlike virtue of her sons.
Ready, for love of country, in their fresh youth!
And know that England's mighty Empire stands
Fast by the warlike virtue of her sons.
| Under Arms | |