For not upon these hills alone,
the doom of sport shall fall,
o’er the broad face of England creeps,
the shadow on the wall.
Time-honoured creeds and ancient faith,
the altar and the crown,
Lordship’s hereditary right,
before that tide go down.
Base churls shall mock the mighty names,
writ on the roll of time;
Religion shall be held a jest,
and loyalty a crime.
No word of prayer,
no hymn of praise
sound in the village school;
the people’s education Utilitarians rule.
The homes where love and peace should dwell
fierce politics shall vex;
and unsexed woman strive to prove
herself the coarser sex.
The statesmen that should rule the realm
coarse demagogues displace;
The glory of a thousand years
shall end in foul disgrace.
Trade shall be held the only good
and gain the sole device,
the statesman’s maxim shall be peace,
and peace at any price.
Her army and her navy
Britain shall cast aside,
soldiers and ships are costly things,
defence an empty pride.
The footsteps of the invader then
England’s shore shall know,
while home-bred traitors give the hand
to England’s every foe.
Disarmed before the foreigner,
the knee shall humbly bend,
and yield the treasures that she lacked
the wisdom to defend.
