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Happy Saint George's Day
April 23rd 2005 Back in 1952 my father gave me an anthology of children's verse. One poem especially stuck in my mind. It is a reminder of quieter and more homely times, and it seems just the thing for Saint George's Day. Saint George Britain loves the men who sweat In the furnace and the mine, Faithful till the eyes forget Daylight and the sweet sunshine: Lusty arms and quick to forge The fighting armour of Saint George. Britain loves the fustian fellow Stooped to sickle, spade and plough, Who in the brown field and the yellow Dutifully bends his brow: He cuts a stick to feed the fire, John Barleycorn's Saint George's squire. And she loves the high-stool hermit, Shiny elbows, pasty face; For however men may term it, Buy-and-Sell's a true man's place; By the club and by the pen Prentices are Saint George's men. But give her redcoat and bluejacket Who plough the blue and reap the red, Mine a wall of steel and crack it, Buy and sell their lead for lead: Round his shaft the Dragon curled, Spear-point in the Dragon's gorge, His helm a lightning to the world, Saint George himself, Saint George, Saint George! J S Phillimore |