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Sir Henry Newbolt

On Spion Kop

Foremost of all on battle's fiery steep
Here VERTUE fell, and here he sleeps his sleep.
A fairer name no Roman ever gave
To stand sole monument on Valour's grave.

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Peace

No more to watch by Night's eternal shore,
With England's chivalry at dawn to ride;
No more defeat, faith, victory---O! no more
A cause on earth for which we might have died.

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For A Trafalgar Cenotaph

Lover of England, stand awhile and gaze
With thankful heart, and lips refrained from praise;
They rest beyond the speech of human pride
Who served with Nelson and with Nelson died.

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By The Hearth-Stone

By the hearth-stone
She sits alone,
The long night bearing:
With eyes that gleam
Into the dream
Of the firelight staring.

Low and more low
The dying glow
Burns in the embers;
She nothing heeds
And nothing needs---
Only remembers.

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From Generation To Generation

O Son of mine, when dusk shall find thee bending
Between a gravestone and a cradle's head---
Between the love whose name is loss unending
And the young love whose thoughts are liker dread,---
Thou too shalt groan at heart that all thy spending
Cannot repay the dead, the hungry dead.

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A Sower

With sanguine looks
And rolling walk
Among the rooks
He loved to stalk,

While on the land
With gusty laugh
From a full hand
He scattered chaff.

Now that within
His spirit sleeps
A harvest thin
The sickle reaps;

But the dumb fields
Desire his tread,
And no earth yields
A wheat more red.

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The Viking's Song

When I thy lover first
Shook out my canvas free
And like a pirate burst
Into that dreaming sea,
The land knew no such thirst
As then tormented me.

Now when at eve returned
I near that shore divine,
Where once but watch-fires burned
I see thy beacon shine,
And know the land hath learned
Desire that welcomes mine.

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Nel Mezzo Del Cammin

Whisper it not that late in years
Sorrow shall fade and the world be brighter,
Life be freed of tremor and tears,
Heads be wiser and hearts be lighter.
Ah! but the dream that all endears,
The dream we sell for your pottage of truth---
Give us again the passion of youth,
Sorrow shall fade and the world be brighter.

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Rondel - I

(from the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384.)
Though I wander far-off ways,
Dearest, never doubt thou me:

Mine is not the love that strays,
Though I wander far-off ways:

Faithfully for all my days
I have vowed myself to thee:
Though I wander far-off ways,
Dearest, never doubt thou me.

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The Volunteer

He leap to arms unbidden,
Unneeded, over-bold;
His face by earth is hidden,
His heart in earth is cold.

Curse on the reckless daring
That could not wait the call,
The proud fantastic bearing
That would be first to fall!

O tears of human passion,
Blue not the image true;
This was not folly's fashion,
This was the man we knew.

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