The men that tanned the hide of us, Our daily foes and friends, They shall not lose their pride of us, Howe'er the journey ends. Their voice, to us who sing of it, No more its message bears, But the round world shall ring of it And all we are be theirs. To speak of Fame a venture is, There's little here can bide, But we may face the centuries, And dare the deepening tide: For though the dust that's part of us To dust again be gone, Yet here shall beat the heart of us-- The School we handed on! _We'll honour yet the School we knew, The best School of all: We'll honour yet the rule we knew. Till the last bell call. For, working days or holidays, And glad or melancholy days, They were great days and jolly days At the best School of all._ {103} _England_ Praise thou with praise unending The Master of the Wine; To all their portions sending Himself he mingled thine: The sea-born flush of morning, The sea-born hush of night, The East wind comfort scorning, And the North wind driving right: The world for gain and giving, The game for man and boy, The life that joys in living, The faith that lives in joy. {104} _Victoria Regina_ (JUNE 21ST, 1897*) A thousand years by sea and land Our race hath served the island kings, But not by custom's dull command To-day with song her Empire rings: Not all the glories of her birth, Her armed renown and ancient throne, Could make her less the child of earth Or give her hopes beyond our own: But stayed on faith more sternly proved And pride than ours more pure and deep, She loves the land our fathers loved And keeps the fame our sons shall keep. * These lines, with music by Dr. Lloyd, formed part of the Cycle of Song offered to Queen Victoria, of blessed and glorious memory, in celebration of her second Jubilee. {105} _The King of England_ (JUNE 24TH, 1902) In that eclipse of noon when joy was hushed Like the bird's song beneath unnatural night, And Terror's footfall in the darkness crushed The rose imperial of our delight, Then, even then, though no man cried "He comes," And no man turned to greet him passing there, With phantom heralds challenging renown And silent-throbbing drums I saw the King of England, hale and fair, Ride out with a great train through London town. Unarmed he rode, but in his ruddy shield The lions bore the dint of many a lance, And up and down his mantle's azure field Were strewn the lilies plucked in famous France. Before him went with banner floating wide The yeoman breed that served his honour best, And mixed with these his knights of noble blood; But in the place of pride His admirals in billowy lines abreast Convoyed him close like galleons on the flood. {106}