 | English Roses |  |
TO THE BLUEJACKET.
Come, tread the blue waves under,
Walk as the ocean free;
Clothed is thine arm with thunder,
All England goes with thee.
O at thy country's calling
Thou dost not heedless hark,
And into night if falling
Wilt leave a dazzling dark.
But live to fight her battles,
And love to conquer too,
When rain of iron rattles,
And blasts of buffets woo.
Thou art not struggling lightly,
For fortune and thy fame;
Nor singly set, if rightly
Uplifting our grand name.
Its majesty, its greatness
Are bucklered to thy breast;
And all its calm sedateness,
Strong as a sea at rest.
Strike, as if on thee only
Hung endless good and ill;
Thou art not standing lonely,
With thee strikes England still.
Walk as the ocean free;
Clothed is thine arm with thunder,
All England goes with thee.
O at thy country's calling
Thou dost not heedless hark,
And into night if falling
Wilt leave a dazzling dark.
But live to fight her battles,
And love to conquer too,
When rain of iron rattles,
And blasts of buffets woo.
Thou art not struggling lightly,
For fortune and thy fame;
Nor singly set, if rightly
Uplifting our grand name.
Its majesty, its greatness
Are bucklered to thy breast;
And all its calm sedateness,
Strong as a sea at rest.
Strike, as if on thee only
Hung endless good and ill;
Thou art not standing lonely,
With thee strikes England still.
Now fearless take thy journey
Farther than eye can see,
And face the fiercest tourney—
All England goes with thee.
So put a bit and bridle
Upon the furious north,
Let not that hand be idle
Which Duty summons forth.
And break the billows' anger
With guiding rein and whip,
Until they sink to languor
And fawn in fellowship.
The tempests are the horses
Which thou wilt gaily ride,
And on their maddest courses
Thou bravest every tide.
But nowise turn or tarry,
With thy most precious freight;
Remember, thou dost carry
A glorious Empire's weight.
Then for our gracious Mother
And for our common rights,
Strive, as if strove no other—
With thee all England fights.
Farther than eye can see,
And face the fiercest tourney—
All England goes with thee.
So put a bit and bridle
Upon the furious north,
185
Which Duty summons forth.
And break the billows' anger
With guiding rein and whip,
Until they sink to languor
And fawn in fellowship.
The tempests are the horses
Which thou wilt gaily ride,
And on their maddest courses
Thou bravest every tide.
But nowise turn or tarry,
With thy most precious freight;
Remember, thou dost carry
A glorious Empire's weight.
Then for our gracious Mother
And for our common rights,
Strive, as if strove no other—
With thee all England fights.
O in the name of Order,
One with the strength of three,
Push onward Freedom's border—
All England goes with thee.
For Truth, whate'er betide thee,
Carve into night a track;
God is Himself beside thee—
A people at thy back.
For justice and the beauty
Of blessed Light and Law,
Show earth Heaven's face in Duty—
Its loveliness of awe.
The waters are thy meadow,
Thy throne the iron crag;
And rests on thee, the shadow
Of our unsullied flag.
On some one with the morning
Our destiny may shine,
Eternity's adorning—
To-day it may be thine.
Watch, though the breakers bellow
In stormy gulfs or straits,
As if thou hadst no fellow—
With thee all England waits.
One with the strength of three,
Push onward Freedom's border—
All England goes with thee.
For Truth, whate'er betide thee,
Carve into night a track;
God is Himself beside thee—
A people at thy back.
For justice and the beauty
Of blessed Light and Law,
Show earth Heaven's face in Duty—
Its loveliness of awe.
The waters are thy meadow,
Thy throne the iron crag;
And rests on thee, the shadow
Of our unsullied flag.
On some one with the morning
Our destiny may shine,
Eternity's adorning—
To-day it may be thine.
Watch, though the breakers bellow
186
As if thou hadst no fellow—
With thee all England waits.
Come, to stern romps and racket
Which timid sailors flee,
War makes the bold bluejacket—
All England goes with thee.
The hope of future ages,
A blessing for each land,
Are but the golden pages
Now written by thy hand.
Repose is sweet, and pleasant
Kisses of wedded wife;
But, in thy spacious Present,
Lies others' boundless life.
Be true to God's vocation,
And to thyself be true;
Thou buildest a foundation,
Which centuries may rue.
Thine individual action
Is no small separate thing,
A passing gust of faction—
But an almighty spring.
Let nought turn back thy trying,
Or leave a shameful mark;
Brave deeds are not for dying,
And blossom in the dark.
Live in whatever station
The call of honour gives,
As if thou wast the nation—
With thee all England lives.
Which timid sailors flee,
War makes the bold bluejacket—
All England goes with thee.
The hope of future ages,
A blessing for each land,
Are but the golden pages
Now written by thy hand.
Repose is sweet, and pleasant
Kisses of wedded wife;
But, in thy spacious Present,
Lies others' boundless life.
Be true to God's vocation,
And to thyself be true;
Thou buildest a foundation,
Which centuries may rue.
Thine individual action
Is no small separate thing,
A passing gust of faction—
But an almighty spring.
Let nought turn back thy trying,
Or leave a shameful mark;
Brave deeds are not for dying,
And blossom in the dark.
Live in whatever station
The call of honour gives,
As if thou wast the nation—
With thee all England lives.
| English Roses | |