England! where the sacred flame Burns before the inmost shrine, Where the lips that love thy name Consecrate their hopes and thine, Where the banners of thy dead Weave their shadows overhead,...
There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night--- Ten to make and the match to win--- A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in. And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,...
"Time mocks thy opening music with a close; What now he gives long since he gave away. Thou deemst thy sun hath risen, but ere it rose It was eclipsed, and dusk shall be thy day."...
Beside the placid sea that mirrored her With the old glory of dawn that cannot die, The sleeping city began to moan and stir, As one that fain from an ill dream would fly;...