POETRY . RHYMES . JINGLES

Flag of St George ST GEORGE OF ENGLAND Tudor Red Rose

By shamrock, leek and thistle
We know the Celtic tribes,
Saints Andrew, Patrick, David,
They have their several scribes.

In Gaelic, Erse and Cymric
They chant their patrons' praise,
And wear with pride their emblems
Upon the festive days.

But English on St. George's Day
Do seldom wear the Rose,
Though still in many an English heart
The ancient passion glows.

The red cross flies for Shakespeare,
The red cross flies for George,
While yet the soul of England
Is hammered on the forge;

But when the soul of England
Arise from present gloom,
That Rose in resurrection
Shall blaze in brighter bloom.

On this St. George's Day, then,
That saw our Shakespeare born,
The Rose is rooted in our hearts -
And we can bear the thorn.

By Laurence Cotterell

 


POEM IN CHESTER CATHEDRAL

1.Give me a good digestion, Lord
   And also something to digest
   Give me a healthy body, Lord
   With sense to keep it at its best.

  2. Give me a healthy mind, good Lord
   To keep the pure and good in sight.
   Which seeing sin is not appalled
   But finds a way to set it right.

   
3. Give me a mind that is not bored
   That does not whimper, whine or sigh.
   Don't let me worry overmuch
   About this fussy thing called, I.

  4. Give me a sense of humour, Lord
   Give me the grace to see a joke.
   To get some happiness from life
   And pass it on to other folk.

 


KEEP THE HOME FIRES BURNING

They were summoned from the hillside,
They were called in from the glen,
And the Country found them ready
At the stirring call for men.
Let no tears add to their hardship.
As the soldiers pass along,
And although your heart is breaking
Make it sing this cheery song.

Keep the home fires burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away
They dream of Home;
There's a silver lining
Through the dark cloud shining
Turn the dark cloud inside out,
Till the boys come home.

Over the seas there came a pleading,
"Help a nation in distress!"
And we gave our glorious laddies;
Honour bade us do no less.
For no gallant Son of Britain
To a foreign yoke shall bend.
And no Englishman is silent
To the sacred call of Friend.

Keep the home fires burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away
They dream of Home;
There's a silver lining
Through the dark cloud shining
Turn the dark cloud inside out,
Till the boys come home.

Popular song of World War I, written by Lena Guilbert Ford in 1919, to music by Ivor Novello.

 

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