Lyra Heroica: A Book of Verse for Boys
“ For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath, And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death. But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by dark or day I heave them whole to the conger or rip their plates away, First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky, Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes by. The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it—the frozen dews have kissed— The morning stars have hailed it, a fellow-star in the mist. What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my breath to dare, Ye have but my waves to conquer. ”
