Gallant nation, foiled by numbers!
Say not that your hopes are fled;
Keep that glorious flag which slumbers,
One day to avenge your dead.
Keep it, widowed, sonless mothers!
Keep it, sisters, mourning brothers!
Furl it with an iron will;
Furl it now, but keep it still--
Think not that its work is done.
Keep it till your children take it,
Once again to hail and make it
All their sires have bled and fought for;
All their noble hearts have sought for--
Bled and fought for all alone.
All alone! ay, shame the story!
Millions here deplore the stain;
Shame, alas! for England's glory,
Freedom called and called in vain!
Furl that banner sadly, slowly,
Treat it gently, for 'tis holy;
Till that day--yes, furl it sadly;
Then once more unfurl it gladly--
Conquered banner! keep it still!

By Sir Henry Houghton, Bart., England.