The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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| V. | No. V.
“SONS OF MY MOTHER, ENGLAND.” |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
171
No. V. “SONS OF MY MOTHER, ENGLAND.”
Sons of my mother, England,
List to the voice of song,
And turn from that degrading path
Which ye have trod so long;
Shake off that mental slavery
Which lays your manhood low;—
Up! awake! for Freedom's sake,
As through the world ye go;
Lift up your faces from the dust,
As through the world ye go.
List to the voice of song,
And turn from that degrading path
Which ye have trod so long;
Shake off that mental slavery
Which lays your manhood low;—
Up! awake! for Freedom's sake,
As through the world ye go;
Lift up your faces from the dust,
As through the world ye go.
Sons of my mother, England,
I feel a pang of pain,
That ye should breathe the bondsman's sigh,
And wear the bondsman's chain;
That ye should seek, 'mid scenes of sin,
A refuge from your woe,—
Still to bear the sting of care,
As through the world ye go,
And toil through life for bitter bread,
As through the world ye go.
I feel a pang of pain,
That ye should breathe the bondsman's sigh,
And wear the bondsman's chain;
That ye should seek, 'mid scenes of sin,
A refuge from your woe,—
Still to bear the sting of care,
As through the world ye go,
And toil through life for bitter bread,
As through the world ye go.
172
Sons of my mother, England,
I know ye are oppressed;
But let not vengeance fire the soul,
Nor burn within the breast;
Let wiser thoughts, let higher deeds,
Let milder language flow,
Nor cherish strife, the bane of life,
As through the world ye go;
But walk with hope and charity,
As through the world ye go.
I know ye are oppressed;
But let not vengeance fire the soul,
Nor burn within the breast;
Let wiser thoughts, let higher deeds,
Let milder language flow,
Nor cherish strife, the bane of life,
As through the world ye go;
But walk with hope and charity,
As through the world ye go.
Sons of my mother, England,
Ye have unconquered been,
On deadly War's unhallowed ground,
'Mid many a fearful scene;—
A nobler warfare ye must wage
With many a subtle foe,
If ye would rise more free and wise,
As through the world ye go,
And with a bloodless banner march,
As through the world ye go.
Ye have unconquered been,
On deadly War's unhallowed ground,
'Mid many a fearful scene;—
A nobler warfare ye must wage
With many a subtle foe,
If ye would rise more free and wise,
As through the world ye go,
And with a bloodless banner march,
As through the world ye go.
Sons of my mother, England,
Brave deeds must yet be done;
But 'tis not by man's strength of arm,
That liberty is won;
But ye must bear unclouded minds,
And hearts with love that glow;
And truth must guide your steps of pride,
As through the world ye go,
And shine your constant beacon fire,
As through the world ye go.
Brave deeds must yet be done;
But 'tis not by man's strength of arm,
That liberty is won;
But ye must bear unclouded minds,
And hearts with love that glow;
And truth must guide your steps of pride,
As through the world ye go,
And shine your constant beacon fire,
As through the world ye go.
Sons of my mother, England,
Girt with her wall of waves,
Let not your fair and fruitful soil
Give birth to future slaves:
Arise with God-like energy,
Each lingering curse o'erthrow,
And firmly stand by fatherland,
As through the world ye go,
For hearth and home, for each and all,
As through the world ye go.
Girt with her wall of waves,
173
Give birth to future slaves:
Arise with God-like energy,
Each lingering curse o'erthrow,
And firmly stand by fatherland,
As through the world ye go,
For hearth and home, for each and all,
As through the world ye go.
Sons of my mother, England,
The worst will soon be past,
For Knowledge from a thousand springs
Is pouring pure and fast;
The star of Freedom soon shall burn,
With wider, brighter glow,
And ye shall be the blest and free,
As through the world ye go,—
A mighty and enlightened race,
As through the world ye go.
The worst will soon be past,
For Knowledge from a thousand springs
Is pouring pure and fast;
The star of Freedom soon shall burn,
With wider, brighter glow,
And ye shall be the blest and free,
As through the world ye go,—
A mighty and enlightened race,
As through the world ye go.
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |