dead
Until the despot's day was done.

Strike, England, quickly, make an end
Of him who seeks a deal with thee.
If he would bargain for thy friend,
What would he trade for Liberty?

MAURICE HEWLETT

THE FOURTH OF AUGUST

Now in thy splendour go before us,
Spirit of England, ardent-eyed!
Enkindle this dear earth that bore us,
In the hour of peril purified.

The cares we hugged drop out of vision,
Our hearts with deeper thoughts dilate.
We step from days of sour division
Into the grandeur of our fate.

For us the glorious dead have striven;
They battled that we might be free.
We to that living cause are given,
We arm for men that are to be.

Among the nations nobliest chartered,
England recalls her heritage.
With her is that which is not bartered,
Which force can neither quell nor cage.

For her immortal stars are burning,
With her, the hope that's never done,
The seed that's in the Spring's returning,
The very flower that seeks the sun.

We fight the fraud that feeds desire on
Lies, in a lust to enslave or kill,
The barren creed of blood and iron,
Vampire of Europe's wasted will.

Endure, O Earth! and thou, awaken,
Purged by this dreadful winnowing-fan,
O wronged, untameable, unshaken
Soul of divinely suffering man!

LAURENCE BINYON

THE UNITED FRONT

I.

Thus only should it come, if come it must;
Not with a riot of flags or a mob-born cry,
But with a noble faith, a conscience high
And pure and proud as heaven, wherein we trust,
We who have fought for peace, have dared the thrust
Of calumny for peace, and watched her die,
Her scutcheons rent from sky to outraged sky
By felon hands, and trampled into the dust.

We fought for peace, and we have seen the law
Cancelled, not once, nor twice, by felon hands,
But shattered, again, again, and yet again.
We fought for peace. Now, in God's name, we draw
The sword, not with a riot of flags and bands,
But silence, and a mustering of men.

II.

They challenge Truth. An Empire makes reply.
One faith, one flag, one honour, and one might.
From sea to sea, from height to war-worn height,
The old word rings out—to conquer, or to die.
And we shall conquer. Though their eagles fly
Through heaven, around this ancient isle unite
Powers that were never vanquished in the fight,
The unconquerable Powers that cannot lie.

But they who challenge Truth, Law, Justice, all
The bases on which God and man stand sure
Throughout all ages, fools!—they thought us torn
So far with discord that the blow might fall
Unanswered; and, while all those Powers