DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY A TRUE POET AND BELOVED OF ALL WHO KNEW HIM What have I done for you, What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near Round the world on your bugles blown! I am indebted to Mr. H. W. Bliss for permission to include “Any friend to any friend" and "To Belgium"; to Mr. Bernard Fagan for "The Hour"; to Mr. Edmund Holmes for "Christ or Neitzsche" and "Standing Still": to Miss Vivanti Chartes for "The Heart of Italy"; to Mr. Walter Grogan for the "Home Flag"; to Miss Iris Tree for "In Time of War"; to Mrs. W. E. Henley for "England, my England"; and to Mr. F. W. Bourdillon for False Gods." 66 G. G. INDEX OF FIRST LINES A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands As I lay with my head in my lap, camerado At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay At length the freshening western blast Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise Beat! beat! drums !-blow! bugles! blow! By the bivouac's fitful flame Come, cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer England, with all thy faults I love thee still Ev'n as I thought of you, your soul had sped. Fair stood the wind for France. Gods of Berserker and Viking, Thor and Odin, rise again Half a league, half a league Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands Have you heard the story that gossips tell? Here's a health unto His Majesty How solemn as one by one Humanity, delighting to behold I read last night of the grand review I see before me now a travelling army halting It was a summer evening "I was with Grant "-the stranger said Lars Porsena of Clusium, Long the proud Spaniards had vaunted to conquer us 50 201 63 37 98 48 . 123 |