Mercy, where the tiger wallowed mad and blind with blood and lust, Justice, where the jackal yelped and fed, and slaves allowed it just, Rose as England's light on Asia rose, and smote them down to dust. Justice bright as mercy, mercy girt by justice with her sword, Smote and saved and raised and ruined, till the tyrant-ridden horde Saw the lightning fade from heaven and knew the sun for God and lord. Where the footfall sounds of England, where the smile of England shines, Rings the tread and laughs the face of freedom, fair as hope divines Days to be, more brave than ours and lit by lordlier stars for signs. All our past acclaims our future: Shakespeare's voice and Nelson's hand, Milton's faith and Wordsworth's trust in this our chosen and chainless land, Bear us witness: come the world against her, England yet shall stand. Earth and sea bear England witness if he lied who said it; he Whom the winds that ward her, waves that clasp, and herb and flower and tree Fed with English dews and sunbeams, hail as more than man may be. No man ever spake as he that bade our England be but true, Keep but faith with England fast and firm, and none should bid her rue; None may speak as he: but all may know the sign that Shakespeare knew. III From the springs of the dawn, from the depths of the noon, from the heights of the night that shine, Hope, faith, and remembrance of glory that found but in England her throne and her shrine, Speak louder than song may proclaim them, that here is the seal of them set for a sign. And loud as the sea's voice thunders applause of the land that is one with the sea Speaks Time in the ear of the people that never at heart was not inly free The word of command that assures us of life, if we will but that life shall be; If the race that is first of the races of men who behold unashamed the sun Stand fast and forget not the sign that is given of the years and the wars that are done, The token that all who are born of its blood should in heart as in blood be one. The word of remembrance that lightens as fire from the steeps of the storm-lit past Bids only the faith of our fathers endure in us, firm as they held it fast: That the glory which was from the first upon England alone may endure to the last. That the love and the hate may change not, the faith may not fade, nor the wrath nor scorn, That shines for her sons and that burns for her foemen as fire of the night or the morn: That the births of her womb may forget not the sign of the glory wherein they were born.