Classic Poem

Praise be to God who has given us Victory!
Now in this time of our happy deliverance,
Thanks and praise to our Redeemer
Who by His arm did this day defend us.

Where are the armies, the splendour Imperial?
Where now the boasts and the pride of the arrogant?
Were not these, of all creation,
Born to the line of successive Empire?

As fled the star-smit legions of Sisera;
As mighty oak at the blast of the hurricane
Falls, with earth-rent crash, resounding
Even to the shadowy verge of Orcus;

As the high walls and the bulwarks of Jericho
Fell to the blare of the leaguering trumpeters;
As, long since, from heights eternal
Lucifer fell to the hosts triumphant—

Bowed to the flame-tongued sword of the Archangel:
So in the dust lies defeated our enemy;
Deep-whelmed under shamed disaster,
Spurned 'neath the feet o' the shocked battalions.

Stream out ye far-blown banners of Christendom!
Joy mighty host resplendent in liberty!
This day sees our dead, avenged,
Stoop to our mirth from the ranks of Angels.

Thus are we saved; as a God-faring traveller
By nighted ways on the steep of Eternity,
Hears through dawn-wreathed mists a trumpet
Speak from the imminent walls of Heaven.