1 On the Proposed Channel Tunnel

O England! England! whose bright stormy breast
Hath met the kiss of sunlight and of sea
For ages; round whose white sheer cliff-sides flee
Winds only and sea-birds: why wilt thou divest
Thine own self of thine armour? Rather rest
In thine own water-walled security;—
Let tempests and the waves conspire with thee;
Leave thou thine eaglets in their pathless nest.

Keen brains are plotting,—wild foes lurk around:
Through tunnelled glooms how vast an host might pour.
Oh! never let the English heart be found
Who, hearkening to the billows' friendly roar,
Will say—though love is in their very sound—
“Sea, thou hast been our shield. Be so no more.”
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