THE ISLAND

A song for England?

Nay, what is a song for England?

Our hearts go by green-cliffed Kinsale

Among the gulls’ white wings,

Or where, on Kentish forelands pale

The lighthouse beacon swings:

Our hearts go up the Mersey's tide,

Come in on Suffolk foam —

The blood that will not be denied

Moves fast, and calls us home!

Our hearts now walk a secret round

On many a Cotswold hill,

For we are mixed of island ground,

The island draws us still:

Our hearts may pace a windy turn

Where Sussex downs are high,

Or watch the lights of London burn,

A bonfire in the sky!

What is the virtue of that soil

That flings her strength so wide?

Her ancient courage, patient toil,

Her stubborn wordless pride?

A little land, yet loved therein

As any land may be,

Rejoicing in her discipline,

The salt stress of the sea.

Our hearts shall walk a Sherwood track,

Our lips taste English rain,

We thrill to see the Union Jack

Across some deep-sea lane;

Though all the world be of rich cost

And marvellous with worth,

Yet if that island ground were lost

How empty were the earth!

A song for England?

Lo, every word we speak's a song for England.