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Rudyard Kipling - The Heritage
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Our Fathers in a wondrous age,
      Ere yet the Earth was small,
     Ensured to us a heritage,
       And doubted not at all                   
     That  we  the children of their heart,
       Which then did beat so high,
     In later rime should play like part
       For our posterity.

     A thousand years they steadfast built,
       To `vantage us and ours,
     The Walls that were a world`s despair,
       The sea-constraining Towers:
     Yet in their midmost pride they knew,
       And unto Kings made known,
     Not all from these their strength they drew,
       Their faith from brass or stone.

     Youth`s passion, manhood`s fierce intent,
       With age`s judgment wise,
     They spent, and counted not they spent,
       At daily sacrifice. 
     Not lambs alone nor purchased doves        .
       Or tithe of trader`s gold—
     Their lives most dear, their dearer loves,
       They offered up of old.

     Refraining e`en from lawful things,
       They bowed the neck to bear
     The unadorned yoke that brings
       Stark toil and sternest care.
     Wherefore through them is Freedom sure;
       Wherefore through them we stand,
     From all but sloth and pride secure,
       In a delightsome land.

     Then, fretful, murmur not they gave
       So great a charge to keep,
     Nor dream that awestruck Time shall save
       Their labour while we sleep.
     Dear-bought and clear, a thousand year,
       Our fathers` title runs.
     Make we likewise their sacrifice,
       Defrauding not our sons.
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