Or to foes turn a cowardly back.
You are old, Noble Senate, the young Rad cried,
And in my view no longer should stay,
Though with some you were popular once, I confess,
Now tell me the reason, I pray.
In the days of our youth, the Assembly replied,
We earned the true love of the land;
Magna Charta we won—of its earliest laws
The best were the work of our hand.
You are old, Noble Senate, the young Rad cried,