<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">England's Dead</h1><p class="epigraph"></p><p class="line">("Make them to be numbered with thy Saints: in glory everlasting.")</p><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Homeward</span> the long ships leap; swift-shod with joy,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Striding the deep sea-dykes fast home they fare, --</p><p class="line">Where is my wedded love? Where is my boy?</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Where go the dead that died for England, where?</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Homeward the long ships leap; but not with these</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Thy boy, thy wedded love, O gentle-eyed</p><p class="line">Woman of England, nor far over seas</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Mixing with dull earth sleep the dead that died</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For England. They, in God's completed aims,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Bear each his part; unseen of bounded sight,</p><p class="line">Down the vast firmament there floats and flames,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Crested with stars and panoplied in light,</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Of strenuous clean souls a long array,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">With lambent lance and white, bright, blinding sword,</p><p class="line">All riding upon horses, -- what are they?</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">They are the dead which died in Christ their Lord</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For England, from old time; with God made one,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">As on the mount the triple vision shone,</p><p class="line">So shine they now, and like the noontide sun</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Before them all the fair Saint George rides on.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">There goes the boy of Créçy whispering low</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">To him of Agincourt, a kingly pair,</p><p class="line">With many mighty men which bent the bow, --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">There go those quenchless Talbots, there the flower</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Of Devon, Grenville, Gilbert, mariners rare,</p><p class="line">She too who thought foul scorn of Philip's power, --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And Sidney who the rippling cup resigned,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And happy Wolfe; wan Pitt released from care,</p><p class="line">Nelson the well-beloved and all his kind, --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And he who brake the Corsican's strong spell,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And Nicholson, impatient of despair,</p><p class="line">And Gordon, faithful, desolate sentinel, --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And there unhelmeted, ungirt of brand,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Victoria moves with mild, maternal air,</p><p class="line">Still vigilant, still prayerful for the land, --</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Nor ride they idly nor with indolent rein,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Irresolute, as men that seek no foe,</p><p class="line">But by the pathless sea, by peak and plain,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Bright-eyed, stern-lipped, all day, all night, they go</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Forth as a fire that snatches arid devours</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Wind-withered woods, so go they swift and fell,</p><p class="line">Warring with principalities and powers,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Hunting through space the swart, old bands of Hell;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And all the sounding causeways of the spheres</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Ring like white iron with the rhythmic tread</p><p class="line">Of these and their innumerable peers;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">But most round England muster England's dead,</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Round England cradled in her roaring seas,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">With Arctic snows white-girdled, bathed in suns</p><p class="line">Asian and Australasian, there go these;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And where one solitary trader runs</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">His English keel, and where one lonely sword</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Glimmers for England, one unsleeping brain</p><p class="line">Watches and works for England, thitherward</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Gather the bright souls of her servants slain</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For her, and lock their shimmering ranks, and sweep</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Round England's child as sweeps the northern gale</p><p class="line">Round some stark pine-tree on the moorland steep,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And from the flash and rattle of their mail</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Hell's pale marauders shudderingly recoil</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Frustrate. O glad condition and sublime</p><p class="line">Of our undying dead, to fight and foil</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The ancient foe, continually to climb</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Through God's high order of His Saints, to meet</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Some soul whose star-like name lit all their course,</p><p class="line">And commune with him, to discern and greet</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Old kindred, love, and friendship, hound and horse;</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">To see God face to face, and still to see</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And labor for the loves that grope on earth,</p><p class="line">To wait serenely till all souls shall be</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">One in God's aristocracy of worth, --</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">O glad condition and sublime! whereto</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">That southern tomb thy hands may never tend</p><p class="line">Was but the gateway thy loved boy passed through,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Thy wedded love passed through, that he might wend</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Homeward to thee; thou can'st not see the blaze</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Of his great blade nor hear his trumpets blare,</p><p class="line">Yet thick as brown leaves round about thy ways,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">There go the dead that died for England, there.</p></div><p class="byline">-- Frank Taylor.</p></body></html> · Great War