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Poem by Eliza Cook The Englishman THERE’S a land that bears a world-known name, Though it is but a little spot; I say ’tis first on the scroll of Fame, And who shall say it is not? Of the deathless ones who shine and live In Arms, in Arts, or Song; The brightest the whole wide world can give, To that little land belong. ’Tis the star of earth, deny it who can; The island home of an Englishman. There’s a flag that waves o’er every sea, No matter when or where: And to treat that flag as aught but the free Is more than the strongest dare. For the lion-spirits that tread the deck Have carried the palm of the brave; And that flag may sink with a shot-torn wreck, But never float over a slave; Its honour is stainless, deny it who can; And this is the flag of an Englishman. There’s a heart that leaps with burning glow, The wronged and the weak to defend; And strikes as soon for a trampled foe, As it does for a soul-bound friend. It nurtures a deep and honest love; It glows with faith and pride; And yearns with the fondness of a dove, To the light of its own fireside. ’Tis a rich, rough gem, deny it who can; And this is the heart of an Englishman. The Briton may traverse the pole or the zone, And boldly claim his right; For he calls such a vast domain his own, That the sun never sets on his might. Let the haughty stranger seek to know The place of his home and birth; And a flush will pour from cheek to brow; While he tells his native earth. For a glorious charter, deny it who can, Is breathed in the words “I’m an Englishman.” Eliza Cook Eliza Cook's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1830 Views |
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