Singer of England's ire across the sea, Your austere voice, electric from the deep, Speaks our own yearning, and our spirits sweep To Europe's allied honor. — Painfully, Bowed with a planet's lonely burden, we Held our hot hearts in leash, but now they leap Their ban, like young hounds belling from their keep, To bait the Teuton wolf of tyranny. What! Would he throw us sops of sugared art And poisoned commerce, snarling: "So! lie still Till I have shown my fangs, and torn the heart Of half the world, and gorged my sanguine fill!" — Now, England, let him see: Rage as he will, He cannot tear our plighted souls apart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND BODY by ANDREW MARVELL THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 27 by OMAR KHAYYAM BOSTON by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE EAGLE; A FRAGMENT by ALFRED TENNYSON CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 9. OF HUMILITY by WILLIAM BASSE |