Tradition

Like olden Rome, like Carthage ancient queen—
World-conquering, the pride of seven seas—
Thou, England, stood amidst thy victories
And gazed upon thy laurels cedar-green—
The gift that like Prometheus thou did give
Humanity—won from Fate and Life;
A heritage whose evergreen will live
Whilst Liberty undaunted fronts the strife :
Flushed with thy conquest proudly thou didst lay—
Thy battle-panoply rusting by thy side—
Scar'd, gladden'd, like some knight of olden day
Gazing upon his prize—a conquer'd bride :
While in thy cloisters bards their harp-chords strung
And thy high greatness proudly, grandly, sung.