6. Albion

Praise the lord,

the father,

 the spirit,

the son

For the trees, and the wind, and the lakes sing you’re one

To raise from unnatural dis-temperament, and mend

All the roads and pillars left to wrack and ruin

            With the eternal feelers of creepers enclosing the sun

Of each old secret place, as moss becomes mud

There are no more druids, to safeguard what was called England

      There are no warders to protect earth

 and sky

and sand

Let vines and Past and the eternal green,

Enfold,

renew,

reform,

 reshape,

 Albion’s new Mother Queen

Let steel and Future and ignoble Man,

Bear witness to the rebirth of Albion’s old

 England