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The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review October 1905


page 55


Thy sun that set at Trafalgar and shed
Glory on England, like a star that dies
Leaving the earth a light though it be dead,
Flames evermore to our believing eyes.
We cannot doubt thee, Nelson; thou hast placed
Thy spell upon the battle-haunted sea
That we have loved, and there thy names is traced;
We cannot love it without loving thee.

Oh splendour of renown where every tide
Floated thy menace to the foeman's shore.
What if the eagle in the dome abide,
Outwatching tempests far below—no more
Than thy great realm his empery; the wind
Bore thy unconquerable thunder far,
Till death that loveth sacrifice was kind
To thee, for ever England's avatar.

Like Wycliffe's ashes thy dear shade has passed
Over the waters of the earth that we
Should find our freedom; we shall hold it fast
Till England is no longer true to thee.
And we her children far upon the main,
Where never any but her cannon call,
Share for thy triumph her immortal pain,
For thee the humblest keep a festival.

Hubert Church.