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Normale Version: BARLOW, GEORGE: England
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ENGLAND.

ENGLAND of Shakspeare, Shelley, Milton, Keats,
Burns, Byron, Wordsworth, and a thousand more
Whose voices throbbed along the self-same shore
On whose sheer margent now the swift tide beats,
As vanquished time before thy foot retreats,
Doth high desire, and hopes that flamed of yore,
Speed likewise from thee ? Is thy morning o'er ?
Is it evening mist that through thy meadows fleets ?
Bestir thee : every nation hath its morn,
Its noon, its even, its night of slow decay ;
Lo ! threatening trumpets on the breeze are borne
And harsh strange jarring clangours round thee stray,
And in the strident air thy flag is torn :
Rise! ere thy sea-kissed kingly locks turn grey.