The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1896-02-27
WHO WOULD nor DIE FoR ENGLAND

WHO WOULD NOT DIE FOR ENGLANI
(The new poet laureate's official poem
on the death of Prince Henry Of Bat
tenberg)
Who would not die for England :.
This great thought
Through centuries of glory handed down
/ BY stored vault in monumental lame,
! And homeless grave in lone barbara
Homeless naIais but not forgotten, so can thrill
With its imperious call the hearts OF
That suddenly from dwarf ignoble lives
They rise to heights Of nobleness, anc
The ian an couch of safety. to embrace
Duty and death, that eyermore were
twin.
.'who would not die for England"
Thus he said
Who at the hottest of all English hearths
The hottest and the highest, had beer
A seat. an English princess for his bride
Now by that hearth weeping widowed
Bitter and barren as the winter rain
at is not meet that l. whom this famous
This generous. mighty and majestic
land,
Go where they go, her world-researchlng
That siumber pillowed on the half-drawn
And i" wake. at whisper of her will. to
Duty and death. that evermore were
twin -
Who would not die for England!
He dies, who, whether in the fateful
Or i in the marish jungle, where she bids,
kiss
OF Singing babes, bushes his human
And ie Stern Il to every voice but hers. obeys
Duty and death. that evermore were
twin.
So across the far-off foam,
Bringing him hither, bring him
home,
over avenues of wave
English ground-to English grave;
Where his soldier dust may rest,
EnglandS flag above his breast,
And loVe-planted, still -snay bloom
English flowers about his tomb.
Who would not die for England, that
A sepulture Ike this! mid hamlet crofts,
And comedy cottages with old-World flow
ers,
And rustic seats for labor-palsied limbs,
The pensioners of Peace! linger here,
Pondering the dark inexplicable Night,
Here by this silent graVe-girt sanctuary
Whose vanished walls were reared anew
by Him.
That Wisdom, Love and Virtue more
sarcophagus of Kings than dripping
Thai waiting hearths and hecatombs of
slain
And He, too. died for England-He who
lived
Scoring all joy save that great JOY pf
The love of one true woman, She a
Empress and Queen, yet not the more re-
Vered,
Than for the lowlier titles, Gracious.
Good,
The Worthiest of Women ever crowned.
Sweetest Consort, sagest Prince,
Shows on SHOWS have melted since
England lost you-late to learn
Worth that never can Seturn;
Learned to know you as you we're,
Known, till them, alone to Her!
Luminous as sun at noon,
Tender as the midnight moon,
Steadfast as the steered-by star
Wise as Time and Patience are;
Deaf to gliding jealousy;
Brooding only on the goal
And, like every lofty soul,
Scanning with a far-off smile
The revilings of the vile
Yes. He, too, died for England; thence
withdrawn
Dim to that undiscoverable Land
Where our loved lost ones dwell, with
wistful eyes,
And lips that look. but speak not.
But AWAY
Away from these soft-whispering waves waves
that make
A dulcet dirge around the new-delved
To bluff East-Anglia. where on wind
swept lawns,
The sanguine crocus peeps from under
ground
To feel the sun. and only finds the snow.
And, whinnying on the norland blast
the surge
Leaps again iron coast with iron boof
AS though the hosts of Denmark foamed
Caparisoned for ravin! And I see
A cradle, not a coffin, and therein
Another Child to England; and yelled
Fate
Over it bent with deep divining eyes,
And with oracular lips, like nurse in
Foretelling the fair future.
Another Albert shalt Thou be, 50
So known, SO honored. and His name
shall stand
The sponsor to your spotlessness until
Dawns the full day. when, conscious of
your soul.
Your soul. your self. and that high mis-
sion laid
On all of such begetting. you can seize
The scepter Of your will. and thuswise
armed
Against the sirens of disloyal sense
Like to your pure progenitor abide
In Gods stern presence and surrender
never
That last prerogative of all your race
To live and die for Englandp'
ALFRED AUSTIN
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