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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395989" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Crown Of Empire</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Free is the wind that lashes into foam<br>The fortress waves that gird the Sea-King’s home<br>And free the war-worn Flag that is our fame<br>That fear, nor treason, nor the Storm-God’s might,<br>Nor the leagued banners of the World can shame<br>When Britain arms for Honour and the Right.<br>And free the hearts that on this golden day<br>Bear willing witness to the Sea-King’s sway:<br>From world-wide realms washed by the world-wide sea<br>They turn, O Throne of Freedom, unto Thee. <br>Homeward they turn from many a lonely place,<br>Maker of Nations, Mother of the Race,<br>Homeward to Thee, where, in this solemn hour<br>Of mightiest Empire, Thou hast called once more<br>A Royal Son to wield Imperial power<br>And wear the crown that Saxon Alfred wore—<br>Sceptre and orb that a great Queen laid down,<br>Lustrous with wisdom, foremost in renown,<br>Whilst o’er them shone, all glittering gems above,<br>The Star of Duty and the Pearl of Love. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Europe is here, and Asia: and the West<br>Lifts ’mid the throng its dauntless Eagle’s crest.<br>Lo! They are gathered—prince and peer and lord,<br>And great ambassadors of mighty States,<br>And utmost Nations—not with naked sword,<br>But to do Britain honour in her gates.<br>The splendour of this large, historic hour,<br>This dazzling pageant of Imperial power,<br>Surrounds a King whose proudest boast shall be<br>The hearts that hail him Emperor of the Free. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Sire August, within these Abbey walls<br>To thee the sacred dust of Britain calls<br>To rule the realm that shook the strength of Spain,<br>And struck th’ accursèd fetter from the slave—<br>That tore from Europe’s neck the Despot’s chain,<br>And, for a pledge of Freedom, o’er the wave<br>Has set its Flag forever—not alone—<br>The fairest face that ever graced a throne,<br>Queen of our Hearts, is with Thee as we sing:—<br>“An Empire’s love is their’s: God Save the King!” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unbar your ocean-guarded gates, make wide<br>Your streets, Imperial City of our Pride!<br>Hark, with the voice of millions, rolling deep,<br>The world salutes thee on this Royal morn.<br>Strong as thine island-rock when surges sweep<br>Thy throne stands steadfast; round it there is born<br>The silent vow that prince and peasant make<br>Ere they go down to death for Freedom’s sake,<br>And, dying, know sons of their sons will be<br>As swift to guard the Sceptre of the Sea. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Pillars of an Empire dwarfing Rome,<br>From the four corners of the world you come.<br>The strong Sea-Lion calls around his throne<br>His ancient heirs, his war-worn younger sons.<br>Bring Heath and Vine from hills of Southern stone.<br>And Myrtle, where the twining rata runs,—<br>Wreaths from our Empire-Garden, where, between<br>The purple Thistle and the Shamrock green,<br>The snow-white Lotus by the Maple shows,<br>The yellow Wattle by the English Rose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is a Southern Song blown oversea<br>From mighty States now linked in unity,—<br>From that far island continent that lies<br>Gigantic on the waters, throned, apart,<br>Robed with the splendour of Australian skies—<br>First to draw sword, when, with a single heart,<br>From every frontier line of Empire rose<br>New Britains armed to meet Britannia’s foes,<br>Whose voices thunder, as the joy-bells ring<br>Loud from ten thousand spires: “God Save the King!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Essex+Evans">George Essex Evans</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=395989" data-title="The Crown Of Empire de George Essex Evans" data-description="Free is the wind that lashes into foam
The fortress waves that gird the Sea-King’s home
And free the war-worn Flag that is our fame
That fear, nor treason, nor the Storm-God’s might,
Nor the leagued banners of the World can shame
When Britain ..."></div>
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