Tag: Britain

  • Bunker Hill

    They are playing “British Grenadiers” as the Grenadiers advance, cheering them on, to their doom, for there are no other songs to play. Read more

  • Dreamer of the Day

    Listen, Dreamer of the Day: The desert calls you, like a prayer; Her sands, the tide of destiny, washing everything clean but the hearts of men. Read more

  • God Save the King!

    I say, God save the King, for the present must not scorn the past, but work through her wisdom. I say, God save the King, for we are not nourished by bread alone, but by symbols and signs. Read more

  • Nothing Human

    Nothing human is a stranger to God on the tree in agony. He is in one place, and in all, the Calvary of Mankind. He is not safe from our iniquity, nor is He absent from our misery. Read more

  • For the Glory of the Marines: The Life and Legacy of Major John Pitcairn

    Major John Pitcairn was a man of many facets and paradoxes. In my exploration of his character over the course of my novel-writing, I have come to deeply respect his courage in battle, competence in his responsibilities, and humanity towards those under his command and even those who were opposed to him. Read more

  • Our Lady of Britannia

    Thou stood on Newgate Arch and graced Pendragon’s shield; Cardigan bore thy taper and Walsingham thy seal. Humbly we now beseech thee as at thy feet we kneel: Our Lady of Britannia, ora pro nobis! Read more

  • Ferguson’s Grave

    Ferguson, lying beneath cold stones, gray with lichen clinging, do you yearn for the sounds of home? Can you hear me singing? Read more

  • Scour the Horse Anew: An Analysis of G.K. Chesterton’s Epic Poem “The Ballad of the White Horse”

    The White Horse on the hill is the main motif, a chalk etching against a grassy backdrop of Wiltshire, continually scoured by the English people so that it would not fade. Read more

  • Pilgrimage to a Small Island: A Britophile’s Memoir

    On the plane, I cannot bring myself to look out the window before taking off. It’s too much, almost like claustrophobia of some sort, but not the fear I felt on the first flight over. It’s just pain now… and turning, looking for people to be there who I’m leaving behind. Read more