Our Fathers in a wondrous age, <br />Ere yet the Earth was small, <br />Ensured to us a heritage, <br />And doubted not at all <br />That we the children of their heart, <br />Which then did beat so high, <br />In later rime should play like part <br />For our posterity. <br /> <br />A thousand years they steadfast built, <br />To 'vantage us and ours, <br />The Walls that were a world's despair, <br />The sea-constraining Towers: <br />Yet in their midmost pride they knew, <br />And unto Kings made known, <br />Not all from these their strength they drew, <br />Their faith from brass or stone. <br /> <br />Youth's passion, manhood's fierce intent, <br />With age's judgment wise, <br />They spent, and counted not they spent, <br />At daily sacrifice. <br />Not lambs alone nor purchased doves . <br />Or tithe of trader's gold-- <br />Their lives most dear, their dearer loves, <br />They offered up of old. <br /> <br />Refraining e'en from lawful things, <br />They bowed the neck to bear <br />The unadorned yoke that brings <br />Stark toil and sternest care. <br />Wherefore through them is Freedom sure; <br />Wherefore through them we stand, <br />From all but sloth and pride secure, <br />In a delightsome land. <br /> <br />Then, fretful, murmur not they gave <br />So great a charge to keep, <br />Nor dream that awestruck Time shall save <br />Their labour while we sleep. <br />Dear-bought and clear, a thousand year, <br />Our fathers' title runs. <br />Make we likewise their sacrifice, <br />Defrauding not our sons.<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-heritage-2/
