‘The chest is empty’ say the sad.
Well, yes, we’ve given all we had.
But British breed, and brawn, and brain
Can fill that noble void again,
As long as no man stops to see
How much his dividend will be.
The race that put dictators down
Will not be stuck for half a crown;
The race that routed tough and tank
Can win a balance at the bank;
And, after all, the British chest
When things look bad expands the best.
June 5, 1944
(A P Herbert)
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Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Sadness Poems, Brain Poems, Balance PoemsBased on Keywords: routed, brawn, dictators, dividend