The Five Nations

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Doubleday, Page & Company, 1903 - English poetry - 215 pages
 

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Page 213 - If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law— Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget— left we forget!
Page 212 - The tumult and the shouting dies — The captains and the kings depart — Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.
Page 108 - All we have of freedom, all we use or know — This our fathers bought for us long and long ago. Ancient Right unnoticed as the breath we draw — Leave to live by no man's leave, underneath the Law.
Page 79 - TAKE up the White Man's burden — Send forth the best ye breed — Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness, On fluttered folk and wild — Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half-devil and half-child.
Page 79 - Take up the White Man's burden — Send forth the best ye breed — Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness On fluttered folk and wild — Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half devil and half child. Take up the White Man's Burden...
Page 208 - An' last it come to me — not pride, Nor yet conceit, but on the 'ole (If such a term may be applied), The makin's of a bloomin
Page 80 - Take up the White Man's burden — And reap his old reward: The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard — The cry of hosts ye humour (Ah, slowly !) toward the light : — "Why brought ye us from bondage, Our loved Egyptian night?
Page 57 - I'd hollowed. They'll go back and do the talking. They'll be called the Pioneers ! They will find my sites of townships — not the cities that I set there. They will rediscover rivers — not my rivers heard at night. By my own old marks and bearings they will show me how to get there, By the lonely cairns I builded they will guide my feet Have I named one single river?
Page 70 - No tender-hearted garden crowns, No bosomed woods adorn Our blunt, bow-headed, whale-backed Downs, But gnarled and writhen thorn — Bare slopes where chasing shadows skim, And through the gaps revealed Belt upon belt, the wooded, dim Blue goodness of the Weald.
Page 64 - Dreamer devout, by vision led Beyond our guess or reach, The travail of his spirit bred Cities in place of speech. So huge the all-mastering thought that drove — So brief the term allowed — Nations, not words, he linked to prove His faith before the crowd.

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