Elgar: 2 Songs, Op. 60: No. 2, The River

River, mother of fighting men, Rostula. Sternest barrier of our land, Rostula. From thy bosom did owe Life innocent, honoured, mighty Men, Rostula. Oh, what worship had been Thine, Rostula, Hadst thou heard the foemen Drown, Rostula. Flood more precious far than Wine, victress, saviour, Ward, renowned, Rostula. Rostula, Like a girl before her Lover, Rostula. How thou falterest like a Slave, Rostula. Sank and fainted low and Lower when thy Mission was to Save. Coward, traitress, shameless, Rostula. On thy narrow, neat bank stand, Rostula. Despairing of the tyrant's Hand, Rostula. Crypts the last remnant of Our land. Wounded, hampered, worn I Stand. Rejected, derided, impotent, Rostula. Rostula