Oh, may no mean surrender of the rights Of our ancestral swords, Which made our fathers pioneers and lords, And victors in the fights,-- May no succession of the days and nights Find us or ours at fault, Or careless of our fame, our island-fame, Our sea-begotten fame,-- And no true Briton halt In his allegiance to the Victory-name Which is the name we bow to in our thought, Where English deeds are wrought, In lands that love the languors of the sun, And where the stars have sway, And where the moon is marvelled at for hours! The flags of nations are the ocean-flowers, And ours the dearest, ours the brightest one, That ever shimmered on the watery way Which patriots call to mind When they remember isles beyond the dawn Where our sea-children dwell. For there's no flag afloat upon the wind Can wave so high, or show so fair a front, Or gleam so proudly in the battle-brunt, Or tell a tale of conquest half so well As this we doat upon! VII. The storm is our ally, the raging sea Is our adherent, and, to make us free, A thousand times the full-tongued hurricane Has bellowed forth its menace o'er the deep; And when dissensions sleep, When sleep the wrought-up rancours of the age We shall again inscribe, and yet again, On History's glowing page The story of the flag,-- For 'twas our Nelson's flag Which none in all the world shall put to shame, Or vilify, or blame,-- The story of the glory of the flag Which waved at Waterloo, And was, from first to last, the symbol true Of Wellington's pure fame! VIII. High, high the flag, for England's sake and ours, Who know its vested powers, And what it means, in war time, and in peace When fierce dissensions cease,-- High, high the flag of England over all Which nought but good befall! High let it wave, in triumph, as a sign Of Freedom's right divine,-- Its glorious folds out-fluttering in the gale, Again to tell the tale Of deeds heroic, wrought at Duty's call! The wind's our trumpeter; and east and west, And north and south, all day, as on a quest Of mirth and marvel,--all the live-long day It bears the news about Of all we do and dare, in our degree, And all the land's great shout, And all the pomp and pageant of the Sea! [Decoration] [Printer's Device: _Printed by R. Folkard & Son, 22, Devonshire St., Queen Sq., London._] JUST READY: _Author's Edition, Crown 8vo., Price 5s. nett._ LOVE LETTERS OF A VIOLINIST By ERIC MACKAY LONDON: LAMLEY & CO., EXHIBITION ROAD, S.W.