Britannia

I AM calling together my sons—The children my love gave birth,I am arming themAs the swift sand runs,And sending them with their battle guns,To prove their manhood's worth.

I should have, God knows, less powerTo stay them by pleadings poorThan the mother who triedIn woodland bowerTo hold from knighthood—His rightful dower—Her boy, Sir Peredur!

For they know full well, as he knew,How base is the touch of fearWhen tyrannous wrongWould right subdue;And they to meAnd themselves are trueWhen danger draweth near.

Oh, strong with the love I gave,Their souls have the strength I give,Who have taught my sonsTo be pure and brave,Nor to fly the chance of a hero's grave,Where, deathless, heroes live!