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��OUR ]\IEN
Our men, they are our stronghold.
Our bastioned wall unsealed, \Mio, against Hate and Wrong, hold
This Realm that never quailed ; WTio bear the noblest burden
Life lays on shoulders broad. Asking not fame or guerdon,
Asking not gold or laud.
They go where England speeds them ;
They laugh and jest at Fate. They go where England needs them
And dream not they are great, And oft, 'mid smoke and smother
By blinding warstorm fanned Sons of our mighty Mother,
They fall that she may stand.
Our sailors, save when sleeping
The light sleep of the sea. Their ancient watch are keeping.
�� �
