“England! Old England! in my love for thee No dream is mine, but blessed memory; Such haunting images and hidden fires Course with the bounding blood of British sires: From British bodies, minds, and souls I come, And from them draw the vision of their home. Awake, Columbia! scorn the vulgar age That bids thee slight thy lordly heritage. Let not the wide Atlantic’s wildest wave Burst the blest bonds that fav’ring Nature gave: Connecting surges ‘twixt the nations run, Our Saxon souls dissolving into one!” AmericaDestinyHistoryEnglandUnityLoyaltyPatriotismNationalismHeritageSaxons Author:H.P. Lovecraft
“Englishmen and Germans are blood brothers, descended from the same stern Woden-worshiping ancestors, blessed with the same rugged virtues, and fired with the same noble ambitions. In a world of diverse and hostile races the joint mission of these virile men is one of union and cooperation with their fellow Teutons in defense of civilization against the onslaughts of all others. There is work to be done by the Teuton. As a unit he must in times to come crush successively the rising power of Slav and Mongolian, preserving for Europe and America the glorious culture that he has evolved.” AmericaRaceHistoryEuropeEnglishGermansBiopoliticsTeutonsSlavsMongolians Author:H.P. Lovecraft
“England! My England! can the surging sea That lies between us tear my heart from thee? Can distant birth and distant dwelling drain Th’ ancestral blood that warms the loyal vein? Isle of my Fathers! hear the filial song Of him whose sources but to thee belong! World-Conquering Mother! by thy mighty hand Was carv’d from savage wilds my native land: Thy matchless sons the firm foundation laid; Thy matchless arts the nascent nation made: By thy just laws the young republic grew, And through thy greatness, kindred greatness knew. What man that springs from thy untainted line But sees Columbia’s virtues all as thine? Whilst nameless multitudes upon our shore From the dim corners of creation pour, Whilst mongrel slaves crawl hither to partake Of Saxon liberty they could not make, From such an alien crew in grief I turn, And for the mother’s voice of Britain burn. England! can aught remove the cherish’d chain That binds my spirit to thy blest domain? Can Revolution’s bitter precepts sway The soul that must the ties of race obey? Create a new Columbia if ye will, The flesh that forms me is Britannic still!” AmericaRaceHistoryRevolutionEnglandLoyaltyBritainBiopoliticsSaxons Author:H.P. Lovecraft