I<br > I887<br >From Clee to heaven the beacon burns，<br > The shires have seen it plain，<br >From north and south the sign returns<br > And beacons burn again.<br >Look left， look right， the hills are bright，<br > The dales are light between，<br >Because tis fifty years to-night<br > That God has saved the Queen.<br >Now， when the flame they watch not towers<br > About the soil they trod，<br >Lads， we ll remember friends of ours<br > Who shared the work with God.<br >To skies that knit their heartstrings right，<br > To fields that bred them brave，<br >The saviours come not home to-night:<br > Themselves they could not save.<br >It dawns in Asia， tombstones show<br > And Shropshire names are read;<br >bald the Nile spills his overflow<br > Beside the Severn s dead.<br >We pledge in peace by farm and town<br > The Queen they served in war，<br >And fire the beacons up and down<br > The land they perished for.<br >
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