Britannia rules the waves, As I have heard her say; She frees whatever slaves She meets upon her way. A teeming mother she Of Parliaments and Laws; Majestic, mighty, free: Devoid of common flaws. For her did Shakspere write His admirable plays: For her did Nelson fight And Wolseley win his bays. Her sturdy common sense Is based on solid grounds: By saving numerous pence She spends effective pounds. The Saxon and the Celt She equitably rules; Her iron rod is felt By countless knaves and fools. In fact, mankind at large, Black, yellow, white and red, Is given to her in charge, And owns her as a head. But every here and there -- Deny it if you can -- She breeds a vacant stare Unworthy of a man: A look of dull surprise; A nerveless idle hand: An eye which never tries To threaten or command: In short, a kind of man, If man indeed he be, As worthy of our ban As any that we see: Unspeakably obtuse, Abominably vain, Of very little use, And execrably plain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN TO GOD MY GOD, IN MY SICKNESS by JOHN DONNE HERMES OF THE WAYS by HILDA DOOLITTLE ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF CLAPHAM ACADEMY by THOMAS HOOD A LITTLE SONG OF LIFE by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE A RHYME by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE MORAL WARFARE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |