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Poem by Henry Newbolt
(The Dictionary Of National Biography) SITTING at times over a hearth that burns With dull domestic glow, My thought, leaving the book, gratefully turns To you who planned it so. Not of the great only you deigned to tell, -- The stars by which we steer, -- But lights out of the night that flashed, and fell To night again, are here. Such as were those, dogs of an elder day, Who sacked the golden ports, And those later who dare grapple their prey Beneath the harbour forts: Some with flag at the fore, sweeping the world To find an equal fight, And some who joined war to their trade, and hurled Ships of the line in flight. Whether their fame centuries long should ring They cared not over-much, But cared greatly to serve God and the king, And keep the Nelson touch; And fought to build Britain above the tide Of wars and windy fate; And passed content, leaving to us the pride Of lives obscurely great.
Henry Newbolt's other poems:
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