Tell England - Brutal Attack

Tell England that I love her

I love her windswept field

Her rustling warring harvest

Which golden autumn yields

I love her sun burnt furrows

That throb with life aglow

Her queenly grace her fair sweet face

Dear land, I love you so

Tell England that I love her

Although she already knows

Her beauty is my only spur

But how my love grows

Tell England that I love her

I tread her fields by day

With quickened peace and eager

Across her furrowed way

In freedoms flaming sunshine

The young green corn shall blow

Joy shall spring and men shall sing

Dear land I love you so

Tell England that I love her

Those field shall be my toll

My plough shall sweep the furrows

An liberty’s sweet soil

Until a golden harvest

On England’s field shall stand

All fair and white a flame so bright

The glory of my land