England yet!

She's England yet! The nations never knew her;
Or, if they knew, were ready to forget.
She made new worlds that paid no homage to her,
Because she called for none as for a debt.
The bullying power who deemed all nations craven,
And that her star of destiny had set,
Was sure that she would seek a coward's haven—
And tempted her, and found her England yet!

We learn our England, and we soon forget,
To learn again that she is England yet.

They watched Britannia ever looking forward,
But could not see the things her children saw.
They watched in Southern seas her boats pull shoreward,
But only marked the eyeglass, heard the "Haw!"
In tents, and bungalows, and outpost stations,
Thin white men ruled for her, unseen, unheard,
Till millions of strange races and far nations
Were ready to obey her at a word.

We learn our England, and in peace forget,
To learn in storm that she is England yet.

She's England yet; and men shall doubt no longer,
And mourn no longer for what she has been.
She'll be a greater England and a stronger—
A better England than the world has seen.
Our own, who reck not of a king's regalia,
Tinsel of crowns, and courts that fume and fret,
Are fighting for her—fighting for Australia—
And blasphemously hail her "England Yet!"

She's England yet, with little to regret—
Ay, more than ever, she'll be England yet!