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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Englishman</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Born in the flesh, and bred in the bone,<br>Some of us harbour still<br>A New World pride: and we flaunt or hide<br>The Spirit of Bunker Hill.<br>We claim our place, as a separate race,<br>Or a self-created clan:<br>Till there comes a day when we like to say,<br>'We are kin of the Englishman.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>For under the front that seems so cold,<br>And the voice that is wont to storm,<br>We are certain to find a big, broad mind<br>And a heart that is soft and warm.<br>And he carries his woes in a lordly way,<br>As only the great souls can:<br>And it makes us glad when in truth we say,<br>'We are kin of the Englishman.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384621" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>He slams his door in the face of the world,<br>If he thinks the world too bold.<br>He will even curse; but he opens his purse<br>To the poor, and the sick, and the old.<br>He is slow in giving to woman the vote,<br>And slow to pick up her fan;<br>But he gives her room in an hour of doom,<br>And dies-like an Englishman.</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=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a></strong></div>

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