Britannia’s word was spoken
The feeble to defend,
That promise was not broken,
She kept it to the end.
Britannia’s word is good,
Tried, tested, proved in blood,
In every land, ‘mid snow or sand,
She for the truth has stood.
Britannia borrowed millions
In thrifty days of old,
Now, when she asks for billions,
She always gets the gold.
Britannia’s note is good,
She signs it with her blood,
Each promise made, she fully paid,
Let cost be what it would.
Britannia’s sons are falling,
The proud, the strong, the gay,
They heard their mother calling,
They would not say her, nay.
Britannia’s sword is good,
She draws it when she should,
The flag that flies ‘neath all the skies
A thousand years has stood.
(Abner Cosens)
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Based on Topics: Gold Poems, Sons Poems, Truth Poems, Promise Poems, Thrift PoemsBased on Keywords: billions