Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu/166

 140 NIZAM AT JUNG

��INDIA TO ENGLAND

O England ! in thine hour of need, When Faith's reward and valor's meed

Is death or glory, When Faith indites, with biting brand, Clasped in each warrior's stiffening hand,

A nation's story ;

Though weak our hands, which fain would clasp The warrior's sword with warrior's grasp

On victory's field ; Yet turn, O mighty Mother ! turn Unto the million hearts that burn

To be thy shield.

Thine equal justice, mercy, grace Have made a distant alien race

A part of thee. 'Twas thine to bid their souls rejoice When first they heard the living voice

Of Liberty.

Unmindful of their ancient name. And lost to honor — glory — fame. And sunk in strife,

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