Esmé Wingfield -Stratford .
*WHEN
WAR
WAS
THREATENED
TO
ENGLAND
OOK
down ,
O
Lord , on
this
our Motherland ,
I
Thine
England
of
the
Seas ; below
the
verge
Her
foes
are
gathering ,
even
as
the
surge
Musters
its
long
dark
lines
to
storm
the
sand
.
What worth
have we
or
valour
to
withstand
The
shock
of
hosts
,
what merit
to
emerge
Pure
from
the
flame
?
yet grant
to
us
the
scourge
But
spare the bolt
in
Thine uplifted
hand
.
Great God
,
Who
dost not
doom
the
sins
of
men
With
cold
,
grey
justice
of
a
human
eye
,
Have not
our
fathers
glorified
Thy
name
?
Hath
she
no
service
yet
?
O
grant
us
then
This
respite
,
gracious
Lord
,
or
else
to
die
Before
our
dear
,
dear
country
owns
her
shame
.
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