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Updated: May 20, 2025
No vulgar marble emblazons their hero-deeds. Every place which their life has touched becomes at once and forever holy ground. A nation's gratitude embalms their memory. In the generations which are to come, when we are lying in undistinguished earth, mothers shall lead their little children by the hand, and say: "Here he was born. This is the blue sky that bent over his baby head.
"And who," saith He, "shall lay mine England low The stem that blooms with hero-deeds The rock when man from wrong a refuge needs The stronghold where the tyrant comes in vain? Who shall bid England vanish from the main? Ne'er be this only Eden freedom knew, Man's stout defence from power, to fate consigned." God the Almighty blew, And the Armada went to every wind!
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