If she be sleeping, let her sleep;
For lo, this woman named the stars!
She suckled at her tawny dugs
Your Moses while you reeked in wars
And prowled your woods, nude, painted thugs.
Then back, brave England; back in peace
To Christian isles of fat increase!
Go back! Else bid your high priests bear
The sword and curse the sweet plowshare;
Take down their cross from proud Saint Paul’s