English Speaking Middle-aged lady, with 'well to do' Welsh lilt.
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EnglishAccents
British (General) WelshTranscript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
for the Fallen by Robert Lawrence Pinion With proud Thanksgiving, A mother for her Children England mourns for her dead across the sea flesh of her flesh. They were spirit of her spirit, fallen in the cause of the free solemn, The drums Thrill Death, August and Royal sings sorrow up into immortal spheres. There is music in the midst of desolation and a glory that shines upon our tears. They went with songs to the battle. They were young, straight of limb. True of I, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end, against odds. Uncounted, they fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old as we that are left grow. Old age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn at the going down of the sun, and in the morning we will remember them. They mingle not with their laughing comrades again. They sit no more at familiar tables of home. They have no lot in our labour of the daytime. They sleep beyond England's foam, but where our desires are and our hopes profound felt as a well spring that is hidden from sight to the innermost heart of their own land they are known as the stars are known to the night as the stars. That shall be bright when we are dust moving in marches upon the heavenly plain as the stars that a starry in the time of our darkness to the end to the end they remain