# The Bengali Book of English Verse/A Song of Britannia (Manmohan Ghose)

MANMOHAN GHOSE, 1869-
A Song of Britannia.
1
Muse, who art quick to fire At the least noble thing, And frankest praise to bring Upon the quivering lyre, Why art thou slow to sing Now when the world beclouds With battle, such as shrouds Earth in a mist of tears? For want of heart belike, While thunder sings afar And even the bravest fears. Seek'st thou a theme for song No fears can ever wrong, No tears can tarnish? Strike And sing Britannia.
2
Britannia the fair, Whom oceans girdle round, With hill and valley crowned, And purest wash of air From her Atlantic bound. What heaths so fresh as hers With blossom? and how stirs The soft wind in her pines. Earth's fairest isle, 'tis said, Where all things lovely are.
Yet beauty there not mines Strength; for no cliff is there No headland calmly fair But fringed with wild sprays wed To shout Britannia.
3
Britannia the strong, Whom God designed should queen The Ocean plain, serene Though threat'ning foes bethrong: Whose fate shall not belong, While round her, every deck Bristling with cannon, speck The seas her angry fleet. Not earth to dominate Or to embroil with war Tower they: 'tis to keep sweet The world's dear peace they bulk So with their silent hulk In all eyes power, elate To speak Britannia.
4
Britannia the free, Of soil so virtuous, such No foot of slave can touch But walks at liberty. The staff she is, the crutch By whom weak lands arise, Who nourished in her eyes Grow, and shake off the sloth Of old anarchic power. Two richly tokens are Of her boon influence, both: What man of Ind or Nile Who sees his fat fields smile
But his lips burst aflower To praise Britannia.
5
Britannia the sage, With her own history wise; The stars were her allies To write that ample page. 'Twas her victorious eyes The vantage saw, whence she To this wide regency Through acts adventurous won: Which if from strife and jar She keep, the secret learn From her mild brow alone; How, not the world to daunt Or power imperial flaunt She makes the queen'd earth yearn To serve Britannia.
6
Britannia the good, With her own heart at school, Whom flatterer cannot fool Nor rebel sour; at flood Her own strength taught to rule. Hers are the mighty hands That o'er a hundred lands Weave good from dawn to gray. Like fond words from afar Hers are the winged sails O'er ocean: words are they Which in a moment bring Her brood beneath her wing; And none so small that fails To knit Britannia.
7
Britannia wide-flung Over the globe; its half Her children, whether graff Or scion mother-sprung; Sons, now to be her staff When her path glooms; though Rhine, Danube and Elbe combine Of these (O idlest dream!), To reave her. Hers they are, Rous'd, ardent in her right! From Ganges utmost stream Far as Canadian firs And bush Australian, hers. Joined even in hell's despite To help Britannia.
8
Britannia the heart And brain that bulwarks power; See, at the crucial hour How well she bears her part! From fields how peaceful flower In millions arms and men! Which now she pours again To those old battlefields, France, Flanders; makes her star Of glory that she shields The weak, confronts the strong. Brute force let others sing; She shows in everything To her it shall belong To be—Britannia.
9
Britannia, sublime To flame in generous deed; In others’ cause to bleed. So to the end of time It shall be. Once she freed The Iberian. Wellington And Torres Vedras spun The lines of victory then. Another Trafalgar The bleak North Seas await; Where her fleet towers the main; Each mighty battleship Charged to the very lip With thunder. Big with fate They loom Britannia.