English poem
X
by Archibald Allan Bowman (1883–1936)
My countrymen, if while upon the brink Of this Penultimate of Destiny, The world with gathered sinews, anxiously Craning upon the plunge, awaits the wink Of swithering Mars, I could but make you think A wildish thought on purpose, it would be That England in a night beneath the sea Should like some greater Krakatoa sink. Then while to water and oblivion The great ship heels majestically down, Ask ye what world it were in which the dawn Sparkled no more on Ocean’s jewelled crown, But in that place where England used to be Spouted and plashed the insufferable sea.
HESEPE, 9th July