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To the City of Bombay
HE Cities are full of pride,
That from her burthened beach.
They count their ships full tale-
And rampart's gun-flecked line;
City by City they hail:
'Hast aught to match with mine?'
And the men that breed from them
But cling to their cities' hem
As a child to the mother's gown.
When they talk with the stranger bands, Dazed and newly alone;
When they walk in the stranger lands,
By roaring streets unknown;
Blessing her where she stands
For strength above their own.
(On high to hold her fame
So thank I God my birth
Surely in toil or fray
Under an alien sky,
Comfort it is to say:
'Of no mean city am I!'
(Neither by service nor fee
Come I to mine estateMother of Cities to me,
For I was born in her gate, Between the palms and the sea, Where the world-end steamers wait.)
Now for this debt I owe,
And for her far-borne cheer
Must I make haste and go
With tribute to her pier.
And she shall touch and remit After the use of kings (Orderly, ancient, fit)
My deep-sea plunderings, And purchase in all lands. And this we do for a sign Her power is over mine, And mine I hold at her hands!
A SONG OF THE ENGLISH
AIR is our lot-O goodly is our heritage!
(Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!)
For the Lord our God Most High
He hath made the deep as dry,
He hath smote for us a pathway to the ends of all the Earth!
Yea, though we sinned-and our rulers went from right
Deep in all dishonour though we stained our garments' hem.
Oh be ye not dismayed,
Though we stumbled and we strayed,
We were led by evil counsellors-the Lord shall deal with them!
Hold ye the Faith-the Faith our Fathers sealed us;
Single heart and single sword,
Of your children in their bondage shall He ask them treble-tale!
A SONG OF THE ENGLISH
Keep ye the Law-be swift in all obedience
Clear the land of evil, drive the road and bridge the ford. Make ye sure to each his own
That he reap where he hath sown;
By the peace among Our peoples let men know we serve the Lord!
Hear now a song-a song of broken interludes-
May ye see the truth between
As the singer knew and touched it in the ends of all the Earth!
THE COASTWISE LIGHTS
Our brows are bound with spindrift and the weed is on our knees;
Our loins are battered 'neath us by the swinging, smoking seas.
From reef and rock and skerry-over headland, ness, and voe
The Coastwise Lights of England watch the ships of England go!
Through the endless summer evenings, on the lineless, level floors;
Through the yelling Channel tempest when the siren hoots and roars
By day the dipping house-flag and by night the rocket's
As the sheep that graze behind us so we know them
where they hail.