Classic Poem

We that are English born and bred,
We that are proud of our mighty dead,
Are we at last to end as slaves,
Crawling into dishonoured graves?
Truculent Teutons! Arrogant Huns!
Answer them—answer them, England's sons!

We whose record at least is clean,
Fixed our word as our bond has been,
Are we no longer to hold in scorn
Promises broken and treaties torn?
Double-tongued Teutons! treacherous Huns!
Answer them—answer them, England's sons!

We whose life-blood no land has lacked,
We who never a Louvain sacked,
We who never held Might is Right,
Should we fold hands to-day—or fight?
Merciless Teutons! barbarous Huns!
Answer them—answer them, England's sons!

We whose past is a well-fought page,
Shall we sink now into vassalage?
We with an honour that knows no stain,
Pass to the rule of a Suzerain?
Credulous Teutons! innocent Huns!
Answer them—answer them, England's sons!