The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| III. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
279
II. ENGLAND HO! FOR ENGLAND
A FEDERATION SONG
Old England needs her children,
She needs them every one,
From India's morning-bugle
To the last sunset-gun:
North, East, and South, she needs them,
And in the furthest West,
And where the Channel waters
Storm round her rocky breast.
She needs them every one,
From India's morning-bugle
To the last sunset-gun:
North, East, and South, she needs them,
And in the furthest West,
And where the Channel waters
Storm round her rocky breast.
The day is surely coming
When all alike she'll need,
All far-off true descendants
Of the old island-breed.
The day is surely coming
When all may have to strike
For England, ho! for England—
So all must fare alike!
When all alike she'll need,
All far-off true descendants
Of the old island-breed.
280
When all may have to strike
For England, ho! for England—
So all must fare alike!
“For England, ho! for England”—
The great deep-throated cry
Rings far across the waters;
A million mouths reply,
“For England, ho! for England,
Till England's work be done,—
And England's work is timeless
And measured by the sun.”
The great deep-throated cry
Rings far across the waters;
A million mouths reply,
“For England, ho! for England,
Till England's work be done,—
And England's work is timeless
And measured by the sun.”
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |