England is not the jewelled isle of Shakespeare's much- quoted passage, nor is it the inferno depicted by Dr Goebbels. More than either it resembles a family, a rather stuffy Victorian family, with not many black sheep in it but with all its cupboards bursting with skeletons.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred Isle This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
Nor one feeling of vengeance presumed to defile The cause, or the men, or the Emerald Isle.
Fairest Isle, all isles excelling, Seat of pleasures, and of loves; Venus here will choose her dwelling, And forsake her Cyprian groves. 291john dryden
For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean, Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave, Whose sons unaccustom'd to rebel commotion, Tho' joyous, are sober tho' peaceful, are brave.
A ship, an Isle, a sickle moon With few but with how splendid stars The mirrors of the sea are strewn Between their silver bars!james elroy flecker
England's foreign policy should always be inspired by the love of freedom. There should be a sympathy with freedom, a desire to give it scope, founded not upon visionary ideas but upon the long experience of many generations within the shores of this happy Isle, that in freedom one lays the firmest foundations both of loyalty and order.
Oh thou, that dear and happy Isle The garden of the world ere while, Thou paradise of four seas, Which heaven planted us to please, But, to exclude the world, did guard With watery if not flaming sword; What luckless apple did we taste, To make us mortal, and thee waste?Andrew Marvell
An Isle under Ionian skies Beautiful as a wreck of Paradise.Percy Bysshe Shelley
Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent Isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.Tennyson
At the gate of the West I stand,On the Isle where the nations throng.We call them "scum o' the earth."
Pure and undimmed, thy angel smile Is mirrored on my dreams, Like evening's sunset-girded Isle Upon her shadowed streams: And o'er my thoughts thy vision floats, Like melody of spring-bird, notes; When the blue halcyon gently laves His plumage in the flashing waves.benjamin, park, sr.
Some unsuspected Isle in the far seas, Some unsuspected Isle in far-off seas.Robert Browning
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams Beside a pumice Isle in Baiæ's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them.Percy Bysshe Shelley
What tho' the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's Isle; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile?
What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's Isle; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile.Reginald Heber
At the gate of the West I stand, On the Isle where the nations throng. We call them "scum o' the earth."
Beautiful Isle of the sea, Smile on the brow of the waters.
Sprinkled along the waste of years Full many a soft green Isle appears: Pause where we may upon the desert road, Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode.john keble
For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this Isle, and ever waging war Each upon other, wasted all the land; And still from time to time the heathen host Swarmed overseas, and harried what was left.
What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's Isle; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile: In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown; The heathen in his blindness Bows down to wood and stone.Reginald Heber
But now being lifted into high society, And having pick'd up several odds and ends Of free thoughts in his travels for variety, He deem'd, being in a lone Isle, among friends, That without any danger of a riot, he Might for long lying make himself amends; And singing as he sung in his warm youth, Agree to a short armistice with truth.lord byron
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd Isle, This earth of Majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise; This fortress built by Nature for herself, Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth.