 | English Roses |  |
CUSTODES PATRIÆ.
O ye who hold our country's honour dear,
And stand betwixt us and a hundred dangers,
To which your watch and wisdom are not strangers
Nor swerve a moment for the taunt or tear;
When rolls the thunder and horizons under
Grow gray with menace of some monstrous fear,
We look to you to rend the clouds asunder
And guide us safely through the darkness drear,
If friends we trusted fail or swords have rusted
From peace which preys upon a kingdom's life,
We know that you will shape to glory strife
Out of the sloth with which we are encrusted.
And stand betwixt us and a hundred dangers,
To which your watch and wisdom are not strangers
Nor swerve a moment for the taunt or tear;
When rolls the thunder and horizons under
Grow gray with menace of some monstrous fear,
We look to you to rend the clouds asunder
And guide us safely through the darkness drear,
If friends we trusted fail or swords have rusted
From peace which preys upon a kingdom's life,
We know that you will shape to glory strife
Out of the sloth with which we are encrusted.
Our liberties are your most solemn stake,
A charge to keep in their heroic measure
With stern delight of duty, as a treasure
Which centuries of suffering toiled to make;
The charters lifted out of shadows rifted
By iron arms which not a world could shake
From their high purpose, and by sorrow sifted
To blessings of which all the lands partake.
This mandate calling with its noble thralling
To you is sacred and a joy and might,
And it will lead us somehow to the light
Upon the rock from which there is no falling.
A charge to keep in their heroic measure
With stern delight of duty, as a treasure
Which centuries of suffering toiled to make;
The charters lifted out of shadows rifted
By iron arms which not a world could shake
From their high purpose, and by sorrow sifted
To blessings of which all the lands partake.
This mandate calling with its noble thralling
To you is sacred and a joy and might,
And it will lead us somehow to the light
Upon the rock from which there is no falling.
Yet not for party and the golden place
Of power direct us against ill and error,
But let the love of right which is a terror
To adversaries yield you strength and grace.
And bravely holding if through death's dim Folding
The principles which buttress this fair State,
Be sure your spirit wears the hardy moulding
Which is alike our peril and our fate.
And not for favour with its flattering savour
Turn once aside to any lesser goal,
But steer us straight by rugged shore and shoal
By paths which have the ocean's breadth and Flavour.
Of power direct us against ill and error,
But let the love of right which is a terror
200
And bravely holding if through death's dim Folding
The principles which buttress this fair State,
Be sure your spirit wears the hardy moulding
Which is alike our peril and our fate.
And not for favour with its flattering savour
Turn once aside to any lesser goal,
But steer us straight by rugged shore and shoal
By paths which have the ocean's breadth and Flavour.
With you abides the custody of creeds
Which if ye guard them will wax grand and purer,
And more than battle and its blades are surer
Bulwarks for all our many-nationed needs;
And with your caring jealous and unsparing
Do worthy acts to be immortal seeds,
And live fresh history in the gentle daring
Which proves and yet renews our title-deeds.
But for your station draw each inspiration
From the sole Fountain never spoiled or spent,
As much the first as last arbitrament,
Which is our England's one illumination.
Which if ye guard them will wax grand and purer,
And more than battle and its blades are surer
Bulwarks for all our many-nationed needs;
And with your caring jealous and unsparing
Do worthy acts to be immortal seeds,
And live fresh history in the gentle daring
Which proves and yet renews our title-deeds.
But for your station draw each inspiration
From the sole Fountain never spoiled or spent,
As much the first as last arbitrament,
Which is our England's one illumination.
| English Roses | |