Excerpt from Little Treasure Island, Her Story and Her Glory

From my Kent hilltop as I write, blown by the wind that comes in from the North Sea, flies the flag that stirs the world.

It is red with the blood Of heroes, it is blue with the blueness of the sea, it is white as the stainless soul of Justice. It is the flag Of the free, the very breath of life to you and me. If alien hands should tear it down, the life we love is at an end. The life we love! This little land Of ours - this free, free land; this land so dear throughout the world!

We are young; only a few years have rolled on their way since you and I came upon this fair earth; but England, these islands, this Land Of Home, is like an ancient day. For a thousand years and more she has made a way through Time for you and me, and she is not unworthy Of the glory Of her hills and dales, Of the solemn quiet of her long and narrow lanes, Of the rolling downs that sweep from the cathedrals to the sea. She is not unworthy Of the silver sea that guards heeody like a wall, for she has set her throne upon the sea and rules it with a sceptre fair to all: the sea that has kept her free she has freely repaid in full. She is not unworthy of the heroes who have died for her; she is not unworthy of the thousand years Of sacrifice, Of patient labour, Of quenchless hope and loving trust, that have made these islands thrill with pride throughout the centuries.

Before our yeomen cut their bows from the ancient yews still standing at our churchyard gates, before the acorns were dropped in the earth to grow into oaks for our wooden walls, the Spirit Of freedom found its home in England. The yews and oaks that mark the age-long hours are not so Old as English liberty, and our yews and oaks will perish before English liberty dies. Far out into the world it has gone, far and Wide to the ends Of the earth, SO that there is not a free land anywhere, nor a free mind under the sun, that would not suffer if our flag should fall.

NO enemy has ever pulled it down. It has waved on the battlefield that has made men free; it has sheltered the victims Of tyrants wherever they have been; it has kindled the fire of heroes who have marched to liberty against great Odds. It has been the torch of liberty that nothing could put out. It has been like a fire Of freedom sweeping through the ages, or like a Wind blowing out of its path whatever hindered the free marching of the human race.

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