Hast thou counted up the cost,
  What to foeman, what to friend? 
Glory sought is Honour lost,
  How should this be knighthood’s end? 
Know’st thou what is Hatred’s meed? 
What the surest gain of greed? 
England! wilt thou dare to-night
Pray that God defend the Right.

Single-hearted, unafraid,
  Hither all thy heroes came,
On this altar’s steps were laid
  Gordon’s life and Outram’s fame. 
England! if thy will be yet
By their great example set,
Here beside thine arms to-night
Pray that God defend the Right.

So shalt thou when morning comes
  Rise to conquer or to fall,
Joyful hear the rolling drums,
  Joyful hear the trumpets call,
Then let Memory tell thy heart: 
“England! what thou wert, thou art!”
Gird thee with thine ancient might,
Forth! and God defend the Right!

The Sailing Of The Long-Ships

(October, 1899)

They saw the cables loosened, they saw the gangways cleared,
They heard the women weeping, they heard the men that cheered;
Far off, far off, the tumult faded and died away,
And all alone the sea-wind came singing up the Bay.

“I came by Cape St. Vincent, I came by Trafalgar,
I swept from Torres Vedras to golden Vigo Bar,
I saw the beacons blazing that fired the world with light
When down their ancient highway your fathers passed to fight.

“O race of tireless fighters, flushed with a youth renewed,
Right well the wars of Freedom befit the Sea-kings’ brood;
Yet as ye go forget not the fame of yonder shore,
The fame ye owe your fathers and the old time before.

“Long-suffering were the Sea-kings, they were not swift to kill,
But when the sands had fallen they waited no man’s will;
Though all the world forbade them, they counted not nor cared,
They weighed not help or hindrance, they did the thing they dared.

“The Sea-kings loved not boasting, they cursed not him that cursed,
They honoured all men duly, and him that faced them, first;
They strove and knew not hatred, they smote and toiled to save,
They tended whom they vanquished, they praised the fallen brave.

“Their fame’s on Torres Vedras, their fame’s on Vigo Bar,
Far-flashed to Cape St. Vincent it burns from Trafalgar;
Mark as ye go the beacons that woke the world with light
When down their ancient highway your fathers passed to fight.”

Waggon Hill

Drake in the North Sea grimly prowling,
  Treading his dear Revenge’s deck,
Watched, with the sea-dogs round him growling,
  Galleons drifting wreck by wreck. 
  “Fetter and Faith for England’s neck,
  Faggot and Father, Saint and chain,—–­
Yonder the Devil and all go howling,
  Devon, O Devon, in wind and rain!