The recent cabled news of the rise in sterling represents a trumph for British finance. Britain again takes her old place as the world's distributor of credit, and Paris newspapers predict an era of prosperity for Britain.
"Britain goes," the Druid said, "Bowing low his oak-crowned head. "Gone the gods of weald and woad Now the Roman takes the road. Tramping 'neath his ruthless wheel Crushing 'neath his chariot wheel British glory. Hope is dead, Britain dies!" tbe Druid said. "Britain's doomed," the coward said. "Now the Frenchman fares ahead Must she fall by field and mart Through a conquering Buonaparte? Once these foes have come to grips Not the might of Nelson's ships, British sword nor British pride; Can prevail," the cowards cried. "Britain's lost," they cried of late. "Subtler foes are at the gate -- Shrewder foes than 'ere of old -— And their weapons are of gold. Now at last a chink is found In the mail that girts her round. Prestige lost and glory fled, Britain sinks," the timid said. Yet again the shout is sent To a whole world's wonderment. Sounding o'er the seven seas Crying British victories. As of old mid Britain's men Dogged, does it yet again -— Dogged faith and sturdy will, Britain triumphs, Britain still!
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2010|