 | English Roses |  |
SONG OF EMPIRE.
O we need not stick at trifles and a thousand leagues or two—
It was English brains or rifles that have shown us what to do,
And the only way to winnings through the war-shock and the shade
From the seeds of small beginnings to the fruitful bough and blade.
Up the Congo, and the Niger, with the Tamil or the tiger,
He has spread his rugged speech;
And his justice is the haven, which the captive and the craven
From their misery beseech.
While the kingdoms take their easy course or trifle with the hem,
He is sounding the Zambesi with his national “Goddem;”
If you rake the lowest gutter or the North Pole in your plan,
You will find before the stutter of the stormy Englishman.
It was English brains or rifles that have shown us what to do,
And the only way to winnings through the war-shock and the shade
From the seeds of small beginnings to the fruitful bough and blade.
Up the Congo, and the Niger, with the Tamil or the tiger,
He has spread his rugged speech;
And his justice is the haven, which the captive and the craven
From their misery beseech.
While the kingdoms take their easy course or trifle with the hem,
He is sounding the Zambesi with his national “Goddem;”
If you rake the lowest gutter or the North Pole in your plan,
You will find before the stutter of the stormy Englishman.
On the Gambia, in the quarters of the savages most vile,
Down the lazy lotus waters of the mighty mystic Nile,
Mark how English wealth is making a new highway for the earth
And the iron arm is shaking the dead countries out of dearth!
Through the tents of roaming Tartars and the houris without garters
Rolls his ready capital,
And our colours gleam and shiver in the sunshine of each river
From the Seine to Senegal.
On the rooftree's virgin summit of the world, in every clime,
And below the deepest plummet in the ocean ooze and slime,
Through the backwoods with the bearing of a God, at Ispahan,
You will run against the swearing or the sweating Englishman.
Down the lazy lotus waters of the mighty mystic Nile,
Mark how English wealth is making a new highway for the earth
And the iron arm is shaking the dead countries out of dearth!
Through the tents of roaming Tartars and the houris without garters
Rolls his ready capital,
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From the Seine to Senegal.
On the rooftree's virgin summit of the world, in every clime,
And below the deepest plummet in the ocean ooze and slime,
Through the backwoods with the bearing of a God, at Ispahan,
You will run against the swearing or the sweating Englishman.
It's the energy and action in our universal race,
Which have conquered fevered faction and the pestilence's place;
And because they were not idle and disdained the coward's plea,
Have imposed a bit and bridle on the tossing of the sea.
These the mountain rock have tunneled and the furnace tamed and funneled
And led captive with their tie,
Which were bound to go on fighting for the good and for the righting
And must ever do or die.
Ah, the print of his heroic hand is written clear as Fate
And endurance stern as stoic pride in loving and in hate,
At the meeting of the nations, in the parliament or ban—
Under all the tried foundations the imperial Englishman.
Which have conquered fevered faction and the pestilence's place;
And because they were not idle and disdained the coward's plea,
Have imposed a bit and bridle on the tossing of the sea.
These the mountain rock have tunneled and the furnace tamed and funneled
And led captive with their tie,
Which were bound to go on fighting for the good and for the righting
And must ever do or die.
Ah, the print of his heroic hand is written clear as Fate
And endurance stern as stoic pride in loving and in hate,
At the meeting of the nations, in the parliament or ban—
Under all the tried foundations the imperial Englishman.
With the sword and with the sceptre, by the conquests of the mind,
He is foremost and adepter and a power that none can bind;
In the commerce keen to travel and the thought that is athirst
For more knowledge to unravel, he steps boldly forth and first.
He may stumble or be straying into feasts instead of praying,
When the season calls a fast;
But if drunk at times or driven from the helm with bulwarks riven,
He shall dominate at last.
If behind the counter standing or in Senates passing laws,
For his hold is the commanding and the crown, whate'er his flaws;
He by nature is the singled One to work what mortal can,
And of blood and iron mingled is the regnant Englishman.
He is foremost and adepter and a power that none can bind;
In the commerce keen to travel and the thought that is athirst
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He may stumble or be straying into feasts instead of praying,
When the season calls a fast;
But if drunk at times or driven from the helm with bulwarks riven,
He shall dominate at last.
If behind the counter standing or in Senates passing laws,
For his hold is the commanding and the crown, whate'er his flaws;
He by nature is the singled One to work what mortal can,
And of blood and iron mingled is the regnant Englishman.
| English Roses | |