And did those beasts in ancient time.
Walk upon England's mountains green:
And did the Chosen One appear,
From England's pleasant pastured scene!
And did the Slayer's mighty hand,
Strike forth upon our clouded hills?
And was our Council founded here,
To Watch and hone this champion's skills?
Give her a Stake, of burnished wood;
Give her a sword of shining steel:
Give her a bow, and arrows true!
Teach her no fear or love to feel!
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall her Sword sleep in her hand:
Till we have driv’n the vampires,
From England's green & pleasant Land