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letra de st. george of england - charles villiers stanford

saint george he was a fighting man, as all the tales do tell;
he fought a battle long ago, and fought it wondrous well
with his helmet, and his hauberk, and his good cross-hilted sword
oh, he rode a-slaying dragons to the glory of the lord
and when his time on earth was done, he found he could not rest
where the year is always summer in the islands of the blest;
so he came to earth again, to see what he could do
and they cradled him in england –
in england, april england –
oh, they cradled him in england where the golden willows blew!

saint george he was a fighting man, and loved a fighting breed
and whenever england wants him now, he’s ready at her need
from crecy field to neuve chapelle he’s there with hand and sword
and he sailed with drake from devon to the glory of the lord
his arm is strong to smite the wrong and break the tyrant’s pride
he was there when nelsom triumphed, he was there when gordon died;
he sees his red-cross ensign float on all the winds that blow
but ah! his heart’s in england –
in england, april england –
oh, his heart it turns to england where the golden willows grow!

saint george he was a fighting man, he’s here and fighting still
while any wrong is yet to right or dragon yet to k!ll
and faith! he’s finding work this day to suit his war-worn sword
for he’s strafing huns in flanders to the glory of the lord
saint george he is a fighting man, but when the fighting’s past
and dead among the trampled fields the fiercest and the last
of all the dragons earth has known beneath his feet lies low
oh, his heart will turn to england –
to england, april england –
he’ll come home to rest in england where the golden willows blow!

- charles villiers stanford

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