Explore "Victrix" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
How was it then with England? / Her faith was true to her plighted word, / Her strong hand closed on her blunted sword, / Her heart rose high to the foeman's hate, / She walked with God on the hills of Fate -- / And all was well with England.
How was it then with England? / Her soul was wrung with loss and pain, / Her face was grey with her heart's-blood drain, / But her falcon eyes were hard and bright, / Austere and cold as an ice-cave's light -- / And all was well with England.