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ANOTHER battle! and the sounds have rolled By many a gloomy gorge and wasted plain O’er huddled hills and mountains manifold, Like winds that run before a heavy rain When Autumn lops the leaves and drooping grain, And earth lies deep in brown and cloudy gold. My brothers, lo! our grand old England stands, With weapons gleaming in her ready hands, Outside the tumult! Let us watch and trust That she will never darken in the dust And drift of wild contention, but remain The hope and stay of many troubled lands, Where so she waits the issue of the fight, Aloof; but praying “God defend the Right!” |