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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374802" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Immortal Strain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Late Midshipman John Travers (Chester), <br>aged 16 years. He was mortally wounded <br>early in the action, yet he remained alone in <br>a most exposed post awaiting orders, with <br>his gun's crew dead all round him.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>We told old stories one by one, <br>Brave tales of men who toyed with death, <br>Of wondrous deeds of valor done <br>In days of bold Elizabeth. <br>“Alas! our British stock,” said we, <br>“Is not now what it used to be.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We read of Drake's great sailors, or <br>Of fighting men that Nelson led, <br>Who steered the walls of oak to war. <br>“These were our finest souls,” we said. <br>“Their fame is on the ocean writ, <br>Nor time, nor storm may cancel it. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“The mariners of England then <br>Were lords of battle and of breeze. <br>The were, indeed the wondrous men <br>Who won for us the shoreless seas, <br>Who took old Neptune's ruling brand <br>And set it in Britannia's hand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“But now,” we sighed, “the blood is pale, <br>We're little people of the street, <br>And dare not front the shrilling gale. <br>The sons of England are effete, <br>Of shorter limb and smaller mould, <br>Mere pigmies by the men of old.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came the vibrant bugle note. <br>None cowered at the high alarm, <br>The steady fleets were still afloat, <br>And England saw her soldiers arm, <br>And readily, with sober grace. <br>The close-set ranks swung into place. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">On sea and shore they fought again, <br>And storied heroes came to life, <br>Once more were added to the slain. <br>Once more found glory in the strife; <br>Again her yeoman sons arose; <br>A wall 'tween Britain and her foes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The eager lads, with laughing lips <br>And souls elate, where oceans roar, <br>Or planes the eagle's flight eclipse, <br>Give all for her, and come no more; <br>Or where death thunders down the sky <br>Beside their silent guns they lie; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">This boy who, while the iron rains <br>With seething riot whip the flood, <br>Fights on, till in his heart remains <br>No single drop of English blood, <br>Avers the British strain sublime, <br>Outliving Death, outlasting Time!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+George+Dyson">Edward George Dyson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374802" data-title="The Immortal Strain de Edward George Dyson" data-description="“Late Midshipman John Travers (Chester), 
aged 16 years. He was mortally wounded 
early in the action, yet he remained alone in 
a most exposed post awaiting orders, with 
his gun's crew dead all round him.” 


We told old stories one by one, ..."></div>
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