10.04.2012, 17:48
John Davies
When rakel Candish sacked the seas for gold,
And Grenvill's wrath made England's name a rod,
And faith prevailed with terror girt and shod,
And for a denier swarthy lives were sold,
A fairer vision could thine eyes behold
Of grace a flower where English feet had trod,
Of brave new life in fair new lands of God,
Of Empire great with mercies manifold.
Ay to the starry North thy spirit clave,
And when no kiss of thine her heart might tame,
And to the light false South thy fancy passed
A burning junk, a rescue swift and brave,
A rush of traitor feet, a kriss a-flame -
Thy soul had found her Passage at the last.
When rakel Candish sacked the seas for gold,
And Grenvill's wrath made England's name a rod,
And faith prevailed with terror girt and shod,
And for a denier swarthy lives were sold,
A fairer vision could thine eyes behold
Of grace a flower where English feet had trod,
Of brave new life in fair new lands of God,
Of Empire great with mercies manifold.
Ay to the starry North thy spirit clave,
And when no kiss of thine her heart might tame,
And to the light false South thy fancy passed
A burning junk, a rescue swift and brave,
A rush of traitor feet, a kriss a-flame -
Thy soul had found her Passage at the last.