WHAT have I done for you, <br />England, my England? <br />What is there I would not do, <br />England, my own? <br />With your glorious eyes austere, <br />As the Lord were walking near, <br />Whispering terrible things and dear <br />As the Song on your bugles blown, England -- <br />Round the world on your bugles blown! <br /> <br />Where shall the watchful Sun, <br />England, my England, <br />Match the master-work you've done, <br />England, my own? <br />When shall he rejoice again <br />Such a breed of mighty men <br />As come forward, one to ten, <br />To the Song on your bugles blown, England -- <br />Down the years on your bugles blown? <br /> <br />Ever the faith endures, <br />England, my England: -- <br />'Take and break us: we are yours, <br />England, my own! <br />Life is good, and joy runs high <br />Between English earth and sky: <br />Death is death; but we shall die <br />To the Song on your bugles blown, England -- <br />To the stars on your bugles blown!' <br /> <br />They call you proud and hard, <br />England, my England: <br />You with worlds to watch and ward, <br />England, my own! <br />You whose mailed hand keeps the keys <br />Of such teeming destinies, <br />You could know nor dread nor ease, <br />Were the Song on your bugles blown, England -- <br />Round the Pit on your bugles blown! <br /> <br />Mother of Ships whose might, <br />England, my England, <br />Is the fierce old Sea's delight, <br />England, my own, <br />Chosen daughter of the Lord, <br />Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword, <br />There's the menace of the Word <br />In the Song of your bugles blown, England -- <br />Out of heaven on your bugles blown!<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pro-rege-nostro/
