ENGLAND
England, the strain of weakness in thee shows
Like to some fell distemper which doth threat
Thy noble life with blight, and doth beget
Many malignant sores. The evil flows
Not from one source, but gradually grows
With thine own growth of years, wherein are met
All the deep instincts that did ever fret
The soul of freedom against freedom’s foes.
But whatsoe’er the form, the effect is one;
Some great cause grandly tried and bravely lost,
Some work of beauty marred upon the loom,
And at the final reckoning, something done,
Yet at a bitter and a fearful cost—
In broken hearts and many a needless tomb.
Hesepe, 25th June