Beneath dear spires; their names are set
In minster aisle, in yew-tree shade:
Their memories fight for England yet.
Let pride with grief go hand in hand,
Sad Love with Patience side by side;
In battle for their lovely land
Not vainly England's sons have died!
And well may pride this hour befit;
For not since England's days began
More fiery clear the word was writ: