44 



Steady, steer them by the bank, 



Touch the leaders on the flank ; 

 For the good two miles of gallop on beyond 



Let them out into their stride ; 



Oh ! the coachman looks with pride, 

 As he gallops by the hostel and the pond. 



Rolling on, we step and fly 

 'Neath the sunny summer sky, 



Through the heart of smiling England do we sail. 

 Many a stately home we pass, 

 Set in slopes of gleaming grass ; 



And the silver water shining in the vale. 



Oh ! we love the country side 

 Of the land we hold with pride ; 



Oh ! we love our merry England and we feel 

 There is music in the morn, 

 As it mingles with the horn. 



And the merry merry music of the wheel. 



Ever rolling, swift and strong, 



Still I revel in my song, 

 I can feel the artist's finger on the rein ; 



I can feel his mind revolve 



With a quickness of resolve, 

 And the workings of his intellect and brain. 



