A Song of the English
Single heart and single sword,

 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! 

Make ye sure to each his own

That he reap where he hath sown;

 Hear now a song—a song of broken interludes— A song of little cunning; of a singer nothing worth. Through the naked words and mean May ye see the truth between As the singer knew and touched it in the ends of all the Earth! 

Through the naked words and mean

May ye see the truth between

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 trail— As the sheep that graze behind us so we know them where they hail. 

 We bridge across the dark and bid the helmsman have a care, The flash that wheeling inland wakes his sleeping wife to prayer; From our vexed eyries, head to gale, we bind in burning chains The lover from the sea-rim drawn—his love in English lanes. We greet the clippers wing-and-wing that race the Southern wool; We warn the crawling cargo-tanks of Bremen, Leith, and Hull; To each and all our equal lamp at peril of the sea— The white wall-sided warships or the whalers of Dundee! 

 THE COASTWISE LIGHTS OF ENGLAND. Come up, come in from Eastward, from the guardports of the Morn! Beat up, beat in from Southerly, O gipsies of the Horn! Swift shuttles of an Empire’s loom that weave us, main to main, The Coastwise Lights of England give you welcome back again! Come up, come in from Eastward, from the guard-ports of the Morn! Beat up, beat in from Southerly, O gipsies of the Horn! Swift shuttles of an Empire’s loom that weave us, main to main, The Coastwise Lights of England give you welcome back again! 


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