I. <br />AT threescore years and five aroused anew <br />To rule in India, forth a soldier went <br />On whose bright-fronted youth fierce war had spent <br />Its iron stress of storm, till glory grew <br />Full as the red sun waned on Waterloo. <br />Landing, he met the word from England sent <br />Which bade him yield up rule: and he, content, <br />Resigned it, as a mightier warrior’s due; <br />And wrote as one rejoicing to record <br />That ‘from the first’ his royal heart was lord <br />Of its own pride or pain; that thought was none <br />Therein save this, that in her perilous strait <br />England, whose womb brings forth her sons so great, <br />Should choose to serve her first her mightiest son. <br /> <br />II. <br /> <br />Glory beyond all flight of warlike fame <br />Go with the warrior’s memory who preferred <br />To praise of men whereby men’s hearts are stirred, <br />And acclamation of his own proud name <br />With blare of trumpet-blasts and sound and flame <br />Of pageant honour, and the titular word <br />That only wins men worship of the herd, <br />His country’s sovereign good: who overcame <br />Pride, wrath, and hope of all high chance on earth, <br />For this land’s love that gave his great heart birth. <br />O nursling of the sea-winds and the sea, <br />Immortal England, goddess ocean-born, <br />What shall thy children fear, what strengths not scorn, <br />While children of such mould are born to thee?<br /><br />Algernon Charles Swinburne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sir-william-gomm-sonnets/
