IV.

England, the land I loved With passionate pride, For hate of whom I live Who for love had died,

Can I, while shines the sun, That hour regain When I again may come to thee And love again?

No, not while that flag Of greed and lust Flaunts in the air, untaught To drag the dust!—

Never, till expiant, I see you kneel, And, brandished, gleams aloft The foeman's steel!

Ah, then to speed, and laugh, As my heart caught the knife: "Mother, I love you! Here, Here is my life!"