Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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The Anglo-Saxon Race.
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
The Anglo-Saxon Race.
A Rhyme for Englishmen.
Stretch forth! stretch forth! from the south to the north,
From the east to the west,—stretch forth! stretch forth!
Strengthen thy stakes, and lengthen thy cords,—
The world is a tent for the world's true lords!
Break forth and spread over every place,
The world is a world for the Saxon Race!
From the east to the west,—stretch forth! stretch forth!
Strengthen thy stakes, and lengthen thy cords,—
The world is a tent for the world's true lords!
Break forth and spread over every place,
The world is a world for the Saxon Race!
England sowed the glorious seed,
In her wise old laws, and her pure old creed,
And her stout old heart, and her plain old tongue,
And her resolute energies, ever young,
And her free bold hand, and her frank fair face,
And her faith in the rule of the Saxon Race!
In her wise old laws, and her pure old creed,
And her stout old heart, and her plain old tongue,
And her resolute energies, ever young,
And her free bold hand, and her frank fair face,
And her faith in the rule of the Saxon Race!
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Feebly dwindling day by day,
All other races are fading away;
The sensual South, and the servile East,
And the tottering throne of the treacherous priest,
And every land is in evil case
But the wide-scatter'd realm of the Saxon Race!
All other races are fading away;
The sensual South, and the servile East,
And the tottering throne of the treacherous priest,
And every land is in evil case
But the wide-scatter'd realm of the Saxon Race!
Englishmen everywhere! brethren all!
By one great name on your millions I call,—
Norman, American, Gael, and Celt,
Into this fine mixed mass ye melt,
And all the best of your best I trace
In the golden brass of the Saxon Race!
By one great name on your millions I call,—
Norman, American, Gael, and Celt,
Into this fine mixed mass ye melt,
And all the best of your best I trace
In the golden brass of the Saxon Race!
Englishmen everywhere! faithful and free!
Lords of the land, and kings of the sea,—
Anglo-Saxons! honest and true,
By hundreds of millions my word is to you,—
Love one another! as brothers embrace!
That the World may be blest in the Saxon Race!
Lords of the land, and kings of the sea,—
Anglo-Saxons! honest and true,
By hundreds of millions my word is to you,—
Love one another! as brothers embrace!
That the World may be blest in the Saxon Race!
| Ballads for the Times | |