Tommy Robinson

The Lad of Luton

Though all the world should grovel and bend
To the minions of deepest hell,
Our days of glory shall not end
Where brave men fought and brave men fell!
We’ll take a stand to save our land
And march with the Lad of Luton!

Let cowards crawl to the godless Huns,
The head-chopping offspring of Cain,
Who rape our daughters, slay our sons,
The earth with Christian blood to stain!
We’ll take a stand to save our land
And march with the Lad of Luton!

We’re done with scum who kiss the feet
Of deviants and desert rats:
Westminster’s greedy, false elite
Of self-enriching bureaucrats!
We’ll take a stand to save our land
And march with the Lad of Luton!

Invading hordes shall not replace
Us lionhearted British folk,
Nor shall a German despot place
Our neck in Europe’s Muslim yoke!
We’ll take a stand to save our land
And march with the Lad of Luton!

The reign of truth and right is nigh,
From every belfry let it ring!
Take up the torch and hold it high,
To light the way for Christ our King!
With Him we’ll stand to save our land,
And march with the Lad of Luton!

Winner of the 2020 Society of Classical Poets Competition (America's highest honor in classical verse), Joseph Charles MacKenzie is a traditional lyric poet of New Mexico. He is also the only American to have won the Scottish International Poetry Competition (see: Times Literary Supplement, Jan 27, 2017). A Pushcart Prize nominee, MacKenzie's verses have appeared in The New York Times, The Scotsman (Edinburgh), The Independent (London), The Telegraph (London), and many other venues. He wirtes primarily for Trinacria (New York) and the Society of Classical Poets (New York).


    • Joseph Charles MacKenzie - All Rights Reserved

      Tommy Robinson is an inspiration to the world, but even more so the British people at this most dark hour in their history as they struggle for, of all things, freedom from foreign and domestic oppression. Many men who are not poets have tried unsuccessfully to express in verse the gravity of the present situation, since, to its immense shame, the United Kingdom’s Marxist poetry establishment has no interest in defending ordinary Britons for whom they have nothing but academic contempt and scorn. Worse yet, British “poets,” like their American counterparts, have long ago discarded the very elements that had once made English poetry noble and transcendent, thus losing the technical means of producing anything at all that might resemble, even remotely, what reasonable minds call poetry. It is not enough to defend Tommy Robinson alone. We must also defend, at the same time, Britain’s most venerated traditions at the summit of which is language and prosody. I hope you will also enjoy my “Letter to England” which inspired this characteristically cheeky response from the famous Cockburn of The Spectator:

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