Twentye Milioun Folk (1908)

Clepe! Engelond, four milioun fot steppes overblome mid lyf.

ever the horison trembleth, over the contynent.

wher all thinges dawnendest of newe strengthe!

yesterday my fader, and my brother, reysede a shoute.

whyl they triumphe so, afeld the bright contynent.

I bileve in them, that us folwen!

from fayr and pur Engelische blosmes new schal blomen.

distaunt cloudes and mist newe exude pais, thare on sonneliche contynent.

nou be time we also gon, over the contreie tegeder is neygh!

let we take the merciful hond, brotherhede of newe, grete Europe we sone beget.

we camarades y-tegeder we shal bilde, a rightwise lond, of love and liberte!

so hath bryngest the stondert of gracefulnes, and sente up the shining cross-baner.

y-tegeder mid twentye milioun folk, the day that we sing oure song is nou!

nou mid ore and worschipe, aren we fresshe on that lond.

over the chenel schewynge bryngen good frithe.

so time hath come bryngen good frithe, and schewynge oure elne!

thus sky ones be closeth derk is cler.

under sonne the folk reise a chere!

in londe and hevene the fast haunte nought cessen.

stiborne yveles we breken, in everych path taken!

so endless is blewe wind mid vaste contreie,

whil avauncen on lond from today schal resowne the stondert.

a sygne it schal be of Engelond afeld, afeld the contynent!