Edward Elgar — The Fourth of August

Now in thy splendour go before us Spirit of England, ardent-eyed! Enkindle this dear earth that bore us In the hour of peril purified The cares we hugged drop out of vision Our hearts with deeper thoughts dilate We step from days of sour division Into the grandeur of our fate For us the glorious dead have striven; They battled that we might be free We to that living cause are given We arm for men that are to be Among the nations nobliest chartered England recalls her heritage With her is that which is not bartered Which force can neither quell nor cage For her immortal stars are burning With her, the hope that's never done The seed that's in the Spring's returning The very flower that seeks the sun We fight the fraud that feeds desire on Lies, in a lust to enslave or kill The barren creed of blood and iron Vampire of Europe's wasted will Endure, O Earth! and thou, awaken Purged by this dreadful winnowing-fan O wronged, untameable, unshaken Soul of divinely suffering man!