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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Song For Peace And Honour</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">TO THE QUEEN</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">LADY and Queen, for whom our laurels twine, <br>Upon whose head the glories of our land <br>In one immortal diadem are met, <br>Embodied England, in whose woman-hand <br>The sceptre of Imperial sway is set, <br>Receive this song of mine! <br>For you are England, and her bays grow green <br>To deck your brow, your goodness lends her grace, <br>And in our hearts your face is as Her face; <br>The Mother-Country is the Mother-Queen. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>We, men of England, children of her might, <br>With all our Mother's record-roll of glory, <br>Great with her greatness, noble by her name, <br>Drank with our mothers' milk our Mother's story, <br>And in our veins the splendour of her fame <br>Made strong our blood and bright; <br>And to her absent sons her name has been <br>Familiar music heard in distant lands, <br>Heart of our heart and sinews of our hands, <br>England, our Mother, our Mistress and our Queen! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Out of the thunderous echoes of the past <br>Through the gold-dust of centuries we hear <br>Her voice, 'O children of a royal line, <br>Sons of her heart, whom England holdeth dear, <br>Mine was the Past--make ye the future mine <br>All glorious to the last!' <br>And, as we hear her, cowards grow to men, <br>And men to heroes, and the voice of fear <br>Is as a whisper in a deaf man's ear, <br>And the dead past is quick in us again. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Her robe is woven of glory and renown, <br>Hers are the golden-laden Argosies, <br>And lordship of the wild and watery ways, <br>Her flag is blown across the utmost seas: <br>Dead nations built her throne, and kingdoms blaze <br>For jewels in her crown. <br>Her Empire like a girdle doth enfold <br>The world; her feet upon her foes are set; <br>She wears the steel-wrought, blood-bright amulet <br>Won by her children in the days of old. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Yet in a treasury of such gems as these <br>Which power and sovereignty and kingship fill <br>To the vast limit of the circling sun, <br>England, our Mother, in her heart holds still, <br>As her most precious jewel, save only one, <br>The priceless pearl of peace-- <br>Peace plucked from out the very heart of war <br>Through the long agony of strenuous years, <br>Made pure by blood and sanctified by tears, <br>A pearl to lie where England's treasures are. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>O peaceful English lanes all white with may, <br>O English meadows where the grass grows tall, <br>O red-roofed village, field and farm and fold <br>Where the long shadows of the elm-trees fall <br>On the wide pastures which the sun calls gold <br>And twilit dew calls gray;-- <br>These are the home, the happy cradle-place <br>Of every man who has our English tongue, <br>Sprung from those loins from which our sires have sprung, <br>Heirs of the glory of our mighty race! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Brothers, we hold the pearl of priceless worth: <br>Shall Peace, our pearl, by us be cast aside? <br>Is it not more to us than all things are? <br>Nay, Peace is precious as the world is wide, <br>But England's honour is more precious far <br>Than all the heavens and earth. <br>Were honour outcast from her supreme place <br>Our pearl of Peace no more a pearl would shine, <br>But, trampled under-foot of cowards and swine, <br>Rot in the mire of a deserved disgrace. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Know then, O ye our brothers over sea, <br>We will not cast our pearl of Peace away, <br>But, holding it, we wait; and if, at last, <br>The whole world came against us in array, <br>If all our glory into darkness passed, <br>Our Empire ceased to be, <br>Yet should we still have chosen the better part <br>Though in the dust our kingdoms were cast down, <br>Though lost were every jewel in our crown <br>We still should wear our jewel in our heart. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>So, for our Mother's honour, if it must <br>Let Peace be lost, but lost the worthier way; <br>Not trampled down, but given, for her sake <br>Who forged of many an iron yesterday <br>The golden song that gold-tongued fame shall wake <br>When we are dust, in dust: <br>For brotherhood and strife and praise and blame <br>And all the world, even to our very land, <br>Weighed in the balance, are as a grain of sand <br>Against the honour of our English name!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</a></strong></div>