I THE voice of England is a trumpet tone When that inviolate Mother wills it so: Nations may rise and fall, and tyrants go Upon their devious, darkened paths: alone England preserves her people and her throne, Her ancient freedom, her perpetual flow Her ancient freedom, her perpetual Of broad and brightened life; time shall not show This mighty Nation pitiful and prone. II It is the Saxon soul that speaks in her, The stanchest soul that earth has ever wrought To guide humanity in faith and light. The shivering slave has been her worshipper, And with defiant courage she has taught Red Tyranny to cringe before the Right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BRODSKY'S COLLECTED by MICHAEL S. HARPER COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO RICHARD R. WRIGHT - INSTRUCTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPRING DAY: NIGHT AND SLEEP by AMY LOWELL THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL |