It is not to be thought of that the flood1
Of British freedom, which to the open sea2
Of the world’s praise from dark antiquity3
Hath flowed, “ with pomp of water, unwithstood,” 4
Roused though it be full often to a mood5
Which spurns the check of salutary bands,—6
That this most famous stream in bogs and sands7
Should perish, and to evil and to good8
Be lost for ever. In our halls is hung,9
Armoury of the invincible knights of old ;10
We must be free or die, who speak the tongue11
That Shakspeare spake ; the faith and morals hold12
Which Milton held.—In every thing we are sprung13
Of earth’s first blood, have titles manifold.14