When for one brief dark hour Rome's virile sway <br />Felt the sharp shock of Cannae's adverse day, <br />Forum, and field, and Senate-House were rent <br />With cries of nor misgiving nor lament, <br />Only of men contending now who should <br />Purchase the spot on which the Victor stood. <br />Legion on legion sprang up from the ground, <br />Gleamed through the land, and over ocean wound, <br />Till Scipio's eagles swarmed on Afric's shore, <br />And Carthage perished, to insult no more. <br /> <br />Not less resolved than Rome, now England stands <br />Facing foul fortune with unfaltering hands. <br />Throughout her Realms is neither fear nor feud, <br />But, calm in strength and steeled in fortitude, <br />She fills the gaps of death with eager life, <br />That will nor lag nor haggle in the strife, <br />Till, having backward rolled the lawless tide <br />Of crafty treason, tyranny, and pride, <br />Her Sword hath brought, inflexible as Fate, <br />Charter of Freedom to a fettered State.<br /><br />Alfred Austin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inflexible-as-fate/
