REVERSE

The wave that breaks against a forward stroke

Beats not the swimmer back, but thrills him through

With joyous trust to win his way anew

Through stronger seas than first upon him broke

And triumphed. England's iron-tempered oak

Shrank not when Europe's might against her grew

Full, and her sun drank up her foes like dew,

And lion-like from sleep her strength awoke.

As bold in fight as bold in breach of trust

We find our foes, and wonder not to find,

Nor grudge them praise whom honour may not bind;

But loathing more intense than speaks disgust

Heaves England's heart, when scorn is bound to greet

Hunters and hounds whose tongues would lick their feet.