Skip to content
1862–1938

V

Henry John Newbolt

Oh hear! Oh hear! Across the sullen tide Across the echoing dome horizon-wide What pulse of fear

Beats with tremendous boom! What call of instant doom, With thunderstroke of terror and of pride, With urgency that may not be denied,

Reverberates upon the heart's own drum Come!... Come!... for thou must come! Come forth, O Soul! This is thy day of power.

This is the day and this the glorious hour That was the goal Of thy self-conquering strife. The love of child and wife,

The fields of Earth and the wide ways of Thought — Did not thy purpose count them all as nought That in this moment thou thyself mayst give And in thy country's life for ever live?

Therefore rejoice That in thy passionate prime Youth's nobler hope disdained the spoils of Time And thine own choice

Fore-earned for thee this day. Rejoice! rejoice to obey In the great hour of life that men call Death The beat that bids thee draw heroic breath,

Deep-throbbing till thy mortal heart be dumb Come!... Come!... the time is come!

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
V · Henry John Newbolt · Poetry Cove