England, the land I loved
With passionate pride,
For hate of whom I live
Who for love had died,
Can I, while shines the sun,
That hour regain
When I again may come to thee
And love again?
No, not while that flag
Of greed and lust
Flaunts in the air, untaught
To drag the dust!—
Never, till expiant,
I see you kneel,
And, brandished, gleams aloft
The foeman's steel!
Ah, then to speed, and laugh,
As my heart caught the knife:
“Mother, I love you! Here,
Here is my life!”