Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/50

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Those waves in many a fight have closed Above her faithful dead; That red-cross flag victoriously Hath floated o'er their bed.

They perish'd—this green turf to keep By hostile tread unstained; These knightly halls inviolate, Those churches unprofaned.

And high and clear, their memory's light Along our shore is set, And many an answering beacon-fire Shall there be kindled yet!

Lift up thy heart, my English Boy! And pray, like them to stand, Should God so summon thee, to guard The altars of the land.