tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7325749111461707692024-03-05T07:08:03.330-08:00Poems For Our NationUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-68845017258473508012015-06-01T15:42:00.002-07:002015-06-01T15:42:56.077-07:00Conversation with a Dead Man<div dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 1; word-spacing: 0px;">
Conversation with a Dead Man<br />I saw you only yesterday<br />Spring- stepped and looking good<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />You saw me only yesterday<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />And you never though I would<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Be greeting you this way</div>
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Well is it dark? Is it but gloom?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />That Empty Nothingness?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />So speak to me of where you are<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Is Your Sun a deep caress?<br />Or does Night now rule your day?</div>
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I have to know. I've got to know<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Are you looking down at me?<br />My grass is green not grey<br />besides, what colour grass could be?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Now, will you answer me?</div>
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He paused awhile as if in thought<br />and then his Answer came<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />What I am now, soon shall you be<br />One day, one month, one year, he said<br />It's all the same to me</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-35425698904591739372013-11-18T16:00:00.002-08:002013-11-18T16:00:26.384-08:00We who keep The Flame alive<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsb5usupD-_iblea4kbUbM5DveKjf14aTwdfEYwasEVXq_y_XKbeS1iDiWtX6UqguTF1VxekSupq4ljeORBawoF1151RLPLXShXxxOirc36AACkpS9G9nRUvtaOZNDQI0J4-BwSZVGHY/s1600/flamegif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsb5usupD-_iblea4kbUbM5DveKjf14aTwdfEYwasEVXq_y_XKbeS1iDiWtX6UqguTF1VxekSupq4ljeORBawoF1151RLPLXShXxxOirc36AACkpS9G9nRUvtaOZNDQI0J4-BwSZVGHY/s200/flamegif.gif" width="167" /></a></div>
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We who keep The Flame alive</span></u></strong></div>
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<strong><u><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></u></strong> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes it shines</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> bright like the Sun<br />as in one decade </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">not too long gone</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes it smoulders,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> embers only</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">as Old Comrades pass on</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and lonely, we are left</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">we Comrades true</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">who once marched proud </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but now are few</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've kept The Faith</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and shunned false fame</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to stay the bearers</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of The Flame<br />In this Dark Time<br />we keep it bright</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">so young Comrades</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">can see it's light</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and stand with us</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">as Comrades old</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to lift The Flame</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and join our fold</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To lift The Flame</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and make it flower</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A Nation's Hope</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A Race's Power</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-81713070363821023962013-01-23T13:47:00.002-08:002013-01-23T13:47:37.510-08:00The Awakening<div align="center">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Awakening by Eddy Morrison</u> <br /><br />To Them we are but children<br />sleeping in our Lottery Halls<br />Be dull be dumbed my child<br />and We will look after things<br /><br />To Them we are mere cattle<br />Herded through our days<br />and slaughtering ourselves<br />at Their bidding<br /><br />To Them we are a sleeping Nation<br />near comatose under Their Order<br />Do not think<br />Their dungeons await<br /><br />Yet to Them we are Their Doom<br />and a people are stirring</strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and false dreams are ending<br />Awake now - and throw off Their chains</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KtuiJCc629gSeELeWH-R0fhEKUtaxwq5ms3na6zMuF_O8Nu-Y_wSRSHfQwCxCS7JkirpF8E8C3ITphijnxlIb9GaU5ep7K1G_bR1401LwdppoIvUwdPH8pocL-6XKkheiNS6WzH5wrA/s1600/chains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KtuiJCc629gSeELeWH-R0fhEKUtaxwq5ms3na6zMuF_O8Nu-Y_wSRSHfQwCxCS7JkirpF8E8C3ITphijnxlIb9GaU5ep7K1G_bR1401LwdppoIvUwdPH8pocL-6XKkheiNS6WzH5wrA/s320/chains.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-88565795169626935662013-01-19T08:28:00.002-08:002013-01-19T08:28:11.236-08:00The Long Sleep Is Ending<strong><span style="color: red; font-family: Goudita Sans Heavy SF; font-size: x-large;">The long
sleep is ending</span></strong> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by</span> <span style="font-family: Arial;">Eddy Morrison</span>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">The Tor is cold, neither tourist nor lunatics
clod</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">can warm the sad
sod</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">that covers the caverns of your
rest.</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">The land sickens and is
ashen,</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">and lost are the
best</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">brave knights, all gone under
foreign clays.</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">Our days are dark
and</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">far too numerous.</span></b>
<br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">The land is dying</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">your people lying in the utter apathy</span></b>
<br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">that goes beyond despair,</span></b>
<br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">still care.</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">Awaken their minds and hearts.</span></b> <br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">Come home, and make us part again of Albion</span></b>
<br /><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica;">Oh, Once and Future King.</span></b> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykRXq9pJ-z8b0QX4bm_YymPpjzkSCnMt2BTq6PyvPMkdI11ZtBIXdUUnU08Dl3YwreFtmNjg6W2DKQ7w5g0tWO2iBaiFAdM_JWOPKFk4wkGvz_2fKbrj2D8tsviN62B8JZp7MfT_hr4M/s1600/arthur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykRXq9pJ-z8b0QX4bm_YymPpjzkSCnMt2BTq6PyvPMkdI11ZtBIXdUUnU08Dl3YwreFtmNjg6W2DKQ7w5g0tWO2iBaiFAdM_JWOPKFk4wkGvz_2fKbrj2D8tsviN62B8JZp7MfT_hr4M/s320/arthur.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-57920667284067914292013-01-19T02:08:00.001-08:002013-01-19T02:08:24.419-08:00"Rule Britannia"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjel66m1FENVeVREG0gjwwi-Y6Op_Zt6LCXI5aUgcigwG9D1_J52hlNGSDmI33A3uO2Y1mWSKFAjX6UyvwcokMOI-o4JK_RFXDBj7Hl6hlLudSLJ46JcSdZ0_QYklF8YZadjAvDoBAKXkk/s1600/britannia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjel66m1FENVeVREG0gjwwi-Y6Op_Zt6LCXI5aUgcigwG9D1_J52hlNGSDmI33A3uO2Y1mWSKFAjX6UyvwcokMOI-o4JK_RFXDBj7Hl6hlLudSLJ46JcSdZ0_QYklF8YZadjAvDoBAKXkk/s320/britannia.jpg" width="279" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">RULE BRITANNIA<br /><br /> When Britain first, at Heaven's command, <br />Arose from out the azure main, <br />This was the charter of the land, <br />And guardian angels sang the strain : <br /><br />Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves ; <br />Britons never will be slaves. <br /><br />The nations, not so blest as thee, <br />Must, in their turn, to tyrants fall ; <br />Whilst thou shalt flourish, great and free, <br />The dread and envy of them all : <br /><br />Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves ; <br />Britons never will be slaves. <br /><br />Still more majestic shalt thou rise, <br />More dreadful from each foreign stroke ; <br />As the loud blast that tears the skies <br />Serves but to root thy native oak : <br /><br />Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves ; <br />Britons never will be slaves. <br /><br />Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame ; <br />All their attempts to hurl thee down <br />Will but arouse thy geii'rous flame, <br />And work their woe but thy renown : <br /><br />Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves ; <br />Britons never will be slaves.</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James Thomson</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-16513030604625582192013-01-18T03:21:00.004-08:002013-01-25T05:49:27.149-08:00Senlac Hill<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BuVUu8gi_srUqT37gFmNRxhDWQJ_WhCdaaebG4g1gRpXolDandXStXme6U3tfiA1EEWdbNx6DBV1muqHlUyyjPG49bEvQy883c7lKQ458XlXZ7VLWlnDA6wrOt5Ok_krIbKwH_hru0g/s1600/FinalCharge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BuVUu8gi_srUqT37gFmNRxhDWQJ_WhCdaaebG4g1gRpXolDandXStXme6U3tfiA1EEWdbNx6DBV1muqHlUyyjPG49bEvQy883c7lKQ458XlXZ7VLWlnDA6wrOt5Ok_krIbKwH_hru0g/s320/FinalCharge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Senlac Hill by Eddy Morrison (January 2013)</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From Senlac Hill the fyrd looked down</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">upon those who would seize England's Crown</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the Norman's ranks full serried wide</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Bastard's horde; a Bastard's pride<br /><br />Upon The Hill, the shield-wall stands</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As Saxon men defend their lands<br />'The Fighting Man' above them flies<br />below the Housecarls steadfast eyes<br /><br />All day the shield-wall holds its own<br />defending English Harold's throne<br />All day both horse and sword surge in<br />Yet shield-wall stands and stands to win<br /><br />But then the Bastard's ruse it out<br />and Saxons fall and Saxons rout<br />The arrow storm - that darkens sky<br />and pierces Crown and pierces eye<br /><br />Then Senlac Hill confirms its name<br />as Saxon blood pours forth in vain<br />A shield-wall broke; a King brought down<br />A Bastard crowned in London Town<br /><br />Today our children play and we<br />from Abbey grounds look down and see<br />The Hill, those fields where Swan-Neck cried<br />Where Harold fell - and England died</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-5559034938651017932013-01-18T02:27:00.001-08:002013-01-18T02:27:01.576-08:00EnglandENGLAND <br />(From Shakespeare's Richard II)<br /><br /><br />THIS royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, <br /><br />This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, <br /><br />This other Eden, demi-paradise ; <br /><br />This fortress, built by nature for herself, <br /><br />Against infection and the hand of war ; <br /><br />This happy breed of men, this little world ; <br /><br />This precious stone set in the silver sea, <br /><br />Which serves it in the office of a wall, <br /><br />Or as a moat defensive to a house, <br /><br />Against the envy of less happier lands : <br /><br />This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, <br /><br />This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, <br /><br />Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, <br /><br />Renowned for their deeds as far from home, <br /><br />(For Christian service, and true chivalry,) <br /><br />As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, <br /><br />Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son : <br /><br />This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, <br /><br />Dear for her reputation through the world . . . <br /><br />England, bound in with the triumphant sea, <br /><br />Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege <br /><br />Of watery Neptune. <br /><br />II <br /><br />THIS England never did, nor never shall, <br />Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, <br />But when it first did help to wound itself. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-1847830305970976222013-01-18T02:24:00.001-08:002013-01-18T02:24:19.648-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq0qa-895_GkqAJhzAi5abJQFxVNoynKdxezQ-XbA48tVGWsvtafmuyYZNWf_2P_UEq2Wp1i3bqZ1DMbt4CNRqBuSHgAZXQLlN9IZ7V1el7OBmSAo0DSZbANcDdO8FcMgWeNEPV-Tzlw0/s1600/Portrait-of-Sir-Walter-Sc-006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq0qa-895_GkqAJhzAi5abJQFxVNoynKdxezQ-XbA48tVGWsvtafmuyYZNWf_2P_UEq2Wp1i3bqZ1DMbt4CNRqBuSHgAZXQLlN9IZ7V1el7OBmSAo0DSZbANcDdO8FcMgWeNEPV-Tzlw0/s320/Portrait-of-Sir-Walter-Sc-006.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />Sir Walter Scott</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BREATHES THERE THE MAN<br /><br />BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, <br />Who never to himself hath said, <br />'This is my own, my native land ! '<br /><br />Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd <br />As home his footsteps he hath turn'd <br />From wandering on a foreign strand ? <br />If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; <br />For him no Minstrel raptures swell ; <br />High though his titles, proud his name, <br />Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; <br />Despite those titles, power, and pelf, <br />The wretch, concentred all in self, <br />Living, shall forfeit fair renown, <br />And, doubly dying, shall go down <br />To the vile dust from whence he sprung, <br />Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung. <br /><br />Sir Walter Scott.</span> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-43102799084730205842012-08-21T01:15:00.002-07:002012-08-21T01:15:54.197-07:00Unity by P.W<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">Unity </h3><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-3308533796273539848" itemprop="articleBody"><style type="text/css">@page {margin: 2cm; }
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</style> <div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The problem with me and the problem with you.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Is all that we say and all that we do.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">When was the last time we all stood together?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Defiant of all and in spite of the weather?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We've all been around now for so many years.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We've had our triumphs but mostly shed tears.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Each time things go wrong someone gets the blame.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">They become former comrades its all such a shame.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Meanwhile the enemy just points and laughs.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As we carry on making stupendous gaffs. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">While we are digging our bloody great hole.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Even more of our Nation is just being stole.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Right from under our noses they take it away.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">While we sit at home on computers all day.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Let's go out together and breath the fresh air.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Let the people know that we really do care.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">To those we've offended, lets say sorry now.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Because we want unity, lets show them how.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">So get off your high horse and start mucking in.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Not being the leader is not such a sin.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">But helping to keep us divided is so.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Try helping your comrades, just give it a go.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Forget about leaders, all they do is shout.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Remember the reason why you started out.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It was surely because you desired salvation.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">For Fourteen Words and for Race & Nation.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">PW.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-40121475995598893152012-08-15T07:32:00.000-07:002012-08-15T07:32:41.103-07:00The Promise Of Empire <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><u>The Promise of Empire by Bill Baillie<o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the space of a lifetime<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We have traded our place<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">From the centre of Empire<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To the edges of space</span></div><o:p></o:p><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Where once we ruled <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We are now ruled over<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">From the mountains of Mourne<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To the White Cliffs of Dover<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We have lost our religion<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Our bluster and pride<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And the lion that once roared<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Has curled up and died<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But the blood that was squandered<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In Flanders and France<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Still flows in our veins<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And given the chance<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The promise of Empire<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The love and the pride<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Will shine in the darkness<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With God on our side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-348243860252366732012-08-14T11:19:00.000-07:002012-08-14T11:19:03.114-07:00Boadicea: An Ode by William Cowper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqqyhd8bsnYXEGSWT2wp8ftiTeZciX_iQl5cZuEtUh5R_bx9SSw2dU_VnAnxUJGyzZGpKiw125hNT75hDeSwAj6fAWfr-HT825ZkVykkI2vLdej9_ezXVJR_vxQe6Jnl7TjdoPbryEO8/s1600/william-cowper-448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqqyhd8bsnYXEGSWT2wp8ftiTeZciX_iQl5cZuEtUh5R_bx9SSw2dU_VnAnxUJGyzZGpKiw125hNT75hDeSwAj6fAWfr-HT825ZkVykkI2vLdej9_ezXVJR_vxQe6Jnl7TjdoPbryEO8/s320/william-cowper-448.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">William Cowper</span><table><tbody>
<tr> <td> <center><span style="font-size: medium;">BOADICEA: AN ODE</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
[Written 1780. Published 1782.]</span></center><table><tbody>
<tr> <td valign="top"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;">W<span style="font-size: xx-small;">HEN</span> the British warrior queen,<br />
Bleeding from the Roman rods,<br />
Sought, with an indignant mien,<br />
Counsel of her country's gods,<br />
<br />
Sage beneath a spreading oak<br />
Sat the Druid, hoary chief;<br />
Ev'ry burning word he spoke<br />
Full of rage, and full of grief.<br />
<br />
Princess! if our aged eyes<br />
Weep upon thy matchless wrongs,<br />
'Tis because resentment ties<br />
All the terrors of our tongues.<br />
<br />
"Rome shall perish—write that word<br />
In the blood that she has spilt;<br />
Perish, hopeless and abhorr'd,<br />
Deep in ruin as in guilt.<br />
<br />
Rome, for empire far renown'd,<br />
Tramples on a thousand states;<br />
Soon her pride shall kiss the ground—<br />
Hark! the Gaul is at her gates!<br />
<br />
Other Romans shall arise,<br />
Heedless of a soldier's name;<br />
Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize—<br />
Harmony the path to fame.<br />
<br />
Then the progeny that springs<br />
From the forests of our land,<br />
Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings,<br />
Shall a wider world command.<br />
<br />
Regions Cæsar never knew<br />
Thy posterity shall sway,<br />
Where his eagles never flew,<br />
None invincible as they.<br />
<br />
Such the bard's prophetic words,<br />
Pregnant with celestial fire,<br />
Bending, as he swept the chords<br />
Of his sweet but awful lyre.<br />
<br />
She, with all a monarch's pride,<br />
Felt them in her bosom glow;<br />
Rush'd to battle, fought, and died;<br />
Dying, hurl'd them at the foe.<br />
<br />
Ruffians, pitiless as proud,<br />
Heav'n awards the vengeance due;<br />
Empire is on us bestow'd,<br />
Shame and ruin wait for you.<br />
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</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-15169430590547644192012-08-14T11:15:00.000-07:002012-08-14T11:15:08.450-07:00A book that semms to be of interest....Patriotism and Poetry<div><span dir="ltr">Cambridge University Press</span>, <span dir="ltr">17 Nov 2005</span> - <span dir="ltr">328 pages</span></div><div id="synopsis"><div id="synopsis-window" style="height: 24.31em; overflow: hidden; width: 676px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhDUAG-KQ8WmBMlEgTIzCV58N6WZzVjxqSLIGNDqc7hdRzhTqLfzNRvmvTBcWRTPJ8v-nfaq_9owkfbWcy73fvFYquuB3alo5UGxqO9hXxrvS54-sI7-HJfgKRXSUFyyUVxjv-eEMFuc/s1600/dustingriffin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirhDUAG-KQ8WmBMlEgTIzCV58N6WZzVjxqSLIGNDqc7hdRzhTqLfzNRvmvTBcWRTPJ8v-nfaq_9owkfbWcy73fvFYquuB3alo5UGxqO9hXxrvS54-sI7-HJfgKRXSUFyyUVxjv-eEMFuc/s1600/dustingriffin.jpg" /></a></div><div class="sa" dir="ltr" id="synopsistext">The poetry of the mid- and late-eighteenth century has long been regarded as essentially private and apolitical. Dustin Griffin argues in this study that the poets of the period were actually addressing the great issues of national life--rebellion at home, imperial wars abroad, an expanding commercial empire, and an emerging new British national identity. He also reveals that poets such as Thomas Gray, Christopher Smart, Oliver Goldsmith, and William Cowper were engaged in the century-long debate about the nature of true patriotism.</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-24610341085024948832012-08-12T15:38:00.001-07:002012-08-12T15:39:37.773-07:00Why do I wear a poppy?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEQWTQwAuIxcyWqaiPTBSxWdmlMtPEEBOD4x7MiMKT3MPwIPGSPMFdYwoJ2LqP_D_OMnkrmUI5J0ozMKj60N-c_OwZt2qDOypn7hRmUTL1BOTepU8n8uNm4Yc8pcCBienjODo-kJaOOU/s1600/poppy-appeal1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEQWTQwAuIxcyWqaiPTBSxWdmlMtPEEBOD4x7MiMKT3MPwIPGSPMFdYwoJ2LqP_D_OMnkrmUI5J0ozMKj60N-c_OwZt2qDOypn7hRmUTL1BOTepU8n8uNm4Yc8pcCBienjODo-kJaOOU/s1600/poppy-appeal1.jpg" /></a></div>Why do I wear a poppy? I’ll tell you if I may,<br />
Because I believe remembrance is... not only for one day.<br />
I wear it for the fallen, and for those falling still<br />
For those who come back broken in body or in will.<br />
For the parents, spouses, siblings where bereavement takes its toll.<br />
Whose pain will never leave them, It eats into their soul<br />
For the wino on the corner, Of his old...life nothing’s left.<br />
<br />
Now he wishes when in battle he had died a hero’s death.<br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_50282fda8b7ab2b17876625"><div class="text_exposed_show">For the lad who loved a kick-about in the park with all his mates,<br />
But now his legs are held together with pins and metal plates<br />
For the selfless men and women whose final journey home<br />
Is in a Union flag-draped coffin on comrades’ shoulders borne.<br />
For all those marching proudly In Remembrance Day parades<br />
My poppy’s worn in gratitude for the sacrifice they made.<br />
(Writer unnown - contemporary poem 2012)</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-64432203586558753752012-08-12T15:35:00.002-07:002012-08-12T15:35:31.614-07:00The Coming Storm....2006 by Eddy Morrison<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-5528263477954271925" itemprop="articleBody"><strong style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal;"><u>The Coming Storm</u></span></strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span><strong style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal;">There is a Darkness </span></strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">in the skies over <st1:country -region="-region" st="on"><st1:place st="on">England</st1:place></st1:country></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Rolling Black stormclouds</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">gather and thunder</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">the lightning bolts </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">are building</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">stronger each day!</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Soon, and now, they will</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">strike our Nation</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">bringing fire and unholy</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Black brimstone</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">to cover our land</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Gone our meadows green</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Gone our cities of fire</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">all consumed in a mad, mindless</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Savage rage</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">that will sweep all</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">before it</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Where England's beauty stood</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">will stand the Beasts of</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">the New Planned Apocalypse</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">And what shall we do?</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">And how shall we fight?</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Will our hearts be strong?</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">Will our Will be true?</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">And will we rise as men</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">and face the Coming Storm?</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">or will we hide -</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">cover ourselves</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">in the False Cloak </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">of Blessed Respectability</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">and seek - hopelessly</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">False Shelter from</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-weight: normal;">The Coming Storm?</span></strong></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-67997382346676430532012-08-12T15:32:00.003-07:002012-08-12T15:33:37.400-07:00William Blake - Jerusalem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfa0BO3HIEv8mZM8P8mBehKShVgr5lRtUF0baetBNiEGKXnnhTmD_dmrADaCA5KLs1v1Ni5sKSM7DfTU_QUh62hIYvk_lZY-pmArlOsqYbW7FUyfR6-0TWPYBcM8Mb4ZZNkqXAv_Pu25s/s1600/blake-jerusalem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfa0BO3HIEv8mZM8P8mBehKShVgr5lRtUF0baetBNiEGKXnnhTmD_dmrADaCA5KLs1v1Ni5sKSM7DfTU_QUh62hIYvk_lZY-pmArlOsqYbW7FUyfR6-0TWPYBcM8Mb4ZZNkqXAv_Pu25s/s320/blake-jerusalem.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><u>Jerusalem<b></b></u></div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">And did those feet in ancient time.</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Walk upon Englands mountains green:</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">And was the holy Lamb of God,</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">On Englands pleasant pastures seen!</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">And did the Countenance Divine,</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Shine forth upon our clouded hills?</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">And was Jerusalem builded here,</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Among these dark Satanic Mills?</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Bring me my Bow of burning gold;</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Bring me my Arrows of desire:</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Bring me my Chariot of fire!</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">I will not cease from Mental Fight,</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">Till we have built Jerusalem,</div><div class="poem" style="text-align: center;">In Englands green & pleasant Land</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-87275522316036063102012-08-12T15:31:00.000-07:002012-08-12T15:31:10.801-07:00The Beginnings - KiplingThe Beginnings<br />
It was not part of their blood, <br />
It came to them very late <br />
With long arrears to make good, <br />
When the English began to hate. <br />
<br />
They were not easily moved, <br />
They were icy-willing to wait <br />
Till every count should be proved, <br />
Ere the English began to hate. <br />
<br />
Their voices were even and low, <br />
Their eyes were level and straight. <br />
There was neither sign nor show, <br />
When the English began to hate. <br />
<br />
It was not preached to the crowd, <br />
It was not taught by the State. <br />
No man spoke it aloud, When the English began to hate. <br />
<br />
It was not suddenly bred, <br />
It will not swiftly abate, <br />
Through the chill years ahead, <br />
When Time shall count from the date <br />
That the English began to hate.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-50494786663713434022012-08-12T15:28:00.002-07:002012-08-12T15:28:40.223-07:00The Anvil - Rudyard Kipling<center><h1 id="h1_poem_title">The Anvil</h1></center><center><i>Norman Conquest, 1066</i></center><pre>ENGLAND'S on the anvil--hear the hammers ring--
Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!
Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into line!
England's on the anvil! Heavy are the blows!
(But the work will be a marvel when it's done.)
Little bits of Kingdoms cannot stand against their foes.
England's being hammered hammered, hammered into one!
There shall be one people--it shall serve one Lord--
(Neither Priest nor Baron shall escape!)
It shall have one speech and law, soul and strength and sword.
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into
shape!
</pre>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-50164322367461651232012-08-12T15:27:00.002-07:002012-08-12T15:27:19.073-07:00The Law of the Jungle - Kipling<img alt="Rudyard Kipling Portrait" src="http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/gif/kipling.jpg" /><br />
<h1><i>Rudyard Kipling</i></h1><br />
<i>(Born December 30, 1865, Died January 18, 1936)</i><br />
<br />
<img alt="Scroll Separator" src="http://www.poetryloverspage.com/gif/scroll2.gif" /><br />
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<tr><td>Now this is the Law of the Jungle -- as old and as true as the sky;<br />
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.<br />
As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back --<br />
<b>For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-732574911146170769.post-76134610259332287742012-08-12T15:20:00.001-07:002012-08-12T15:27:47.937-07:00Poems For Our NationThe supporters of <strong><em><a href="htttp://natsentinel.blogspot.com/">Nationalist Sentinel</a></em></strong> have launched this Blog to gave a permanent place for as much poetry both old and new which celebrates our <strong>British Race and Nation</strong>. Here you will find poems by modern day Nationalist poets and patriotic poems passed down through the last few hundred years - Kipling, Brooke,Yeats, D E Lawrence,Thomas Hardy, Tolkein and others to name some very prominent ones.<br />
We are also encouraging YOU to put pen to paper - or in this case, keyboard to email and send in YOUR poem which must in some way cover some aspect of racial-nationalism or British patriotism.<br />
We shall also be featuring from time to time, tips and hints and writing better poetry......<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8m1cDkRHrgG8NqGoxBLQw8T5ASEJFoJmF16vKH2GMvImOOACkkbRok5S643DYpWE78LhfAVrPRmhCNNu8OY1GOyRNUbTpNUFDeRn3YxYQQJDks5FQdrH_SO-CukUXQf8fvvKMLjSyHtg/s1600/rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8m1cDkRHrgG8NqGoxBLQw8T5ASEJFoJmF16vKH2GMvImOOACkkbRok5S643DYpWE78LhfAVrPRmhCNNu8OY1GOyRNUbTpNUFDeRn3YxYQQJDks5FQdrH_SO-CukUXQf8fvvKMLjSyHtg/s320/rose.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>...so on with the motley....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0