Sir Henry Newbolt

(1862 - 1938 / Bilston / England)

Sir Henry Newbolt Poems

1. The Echo 4/13/2010
2. The Sailing Of The Long-Ships 4/13/2010
3. The Only Son 4/13/2010
4. The Quarter-Gunner's Yarn 4/13/2010
5. The Sufi In The City 4/13/2010
6. When I Remember 4/13/2010
7. The Grenadier's Good-Bye 4/13/2010
8. The Last Word 4/13/2010
9. Rondel - Ii 4/13/2010
10. Laudabunt Alii 4/13/2010
11. Peace 4/13/2010
12. The Building Of The Temple 4/13/2010
13. The Viking's Song 4/13/2010
14. The Gay Gordons 4/13/2010
15. The Old And Bold 4/13/2010
16. The Death Of Admiral Blake 4/13/2010
17. The School At War 4/13/2010
18. Rondel - I 4/13/2010
19. Victoria Regina 4/13/2010
20. The Guides At Cabul 4/13/2010
21. Minora Sidera 4/13/2010
22. The Volunteer 4/13/2010
23. The King Of England 4/13/2010
24. The Nile 4/13/2010
25. The Vigil 4/13/2010
26. Moonset 4/13/2010
27. Hymn 4/13/2010
28. San Stefano 4/13/2010
29. Srahmandazi 4/13/2010
30. The Bright Medusa 4/13/2010
31. Vae Victis 4/13/2010
32. The Non-Combatant 4/13/2010
33. In July 4/13/2010
34. Nel Mezzo Del Cammin 4/13/2010
35. Waggon Hill 4/13/2010
36. Pereunt Et Imputantur 4/13/2010
37. Yattendon 4/13/2010
38. Messmates 4/13/2010
39. Outward Bound 4/13/2010
40. On Spion Kop 4/13/2010
Best Poem of Sir Henry Newbolt

Vitaï Lampada

There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night --
Ten to make and the match to win --
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

The sand of the desert is sodden red, --
Red with the wreck of a square that broke; --
The Gatling's jammed and the colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks, ...

Read the full of Vitaï Lampada

Clifton Chapel

This is the Chapel: here, my son,
Your father thought the thoughts of youth,
And heard the words that one by one
The touch of Life has turn’d to truth.
Here in a day that is not far,
You too may speak with noble ghosts
Of manhood and the vows of war
You made before the Lord of Hosts.

[Hata Bildir]