large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_07_chesterton_64kb_36
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_07_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"The Mother of God goes over them, On dreadful cherubs borne; And the psalm is roaring above the rune, And the Cross goes over the sun and moon, Endeth the battle of Ethandune With the blowing of a horn." THE MOTHER OF GOD GOES OVER THEM ON DREADFUL CHERUBS BORN AND THE PSALM IS ROARING ABOVE THE RUIN AND THE CROSS GOES OVER THE SUN AND MOON ENDETH THE BATTLE OF ATHENDOON WITH THE BLOWING OF A HORN
 him dead, And blew the battle sign. Then bursting all and blasting Came Christendom like death, Kicked of such catapults of will, The staves shiver, the barrels spill, The waggons waver and crash and kill The waggoners beneath. Barriers go backwards, banners rend, Great shields groan like a gong-- Horses like horns of nightmare Neigh horribly and long. Horses ramp high and rock and boil And break their golden reins, And slide on carnage clamorously, Down where the bitter blood doth lie, Where Ogier went on foot to die, In the old way of the Danes. "The high tide!" King Alfred cried. "The high tide and the turn! As a tide turns on the tall grey seas, See how they waver in the trees, How stray their spears, how knock their knees, How wild their watchfires burn! "The Mother of God goes over them, Walking on wind and flame, And the storm-cloud drifts from city and dale, And the White Horse stamps in the White Horse Vale, And we all shall yet drink Christian ale In the village of our name. O THE SPINE AND ALFRED SPRANG OVER HIM DEAD AND BLEW THE BATTLE SIDE THEN BURSTING ALL AND BLASTING CAME CHRISTENDOM LIKE DEATH KICKED OF SUCH CATAPULTS OF WILL THAT STAVES SHIVER AND BARRELS SPILL THE WAGONS WAVER AND CRASH AND KILL THE WAGGONERS BENEATH BARRIERS GO BACKWARDS BANNERS REND GREAT SHIELDS GROAN LIKE A GOG HORSES LIKE HORNS OF NIGHTMARE NAY HORRIBLY AND LONG HORSES RAMP HIGH AND ROCK AND BOIL AND BREAK THEIR GOLDEN REINS AND SLIDE ON CARNAGE CLAMOROUSLY DOWN WHERE THE BITTER BLOOD DOTH LIE WHERE AUGIA WENT ON FOOT TO DIE IN THE OLD WAY OF THE DANES THE HIGH TIDE KING ALFRED CRIED THE HIGH TIDE AND THE TURN AS THE TIDE TURNS ON THE TALL GRAY SEAS SEE HOW THEY WAVER IN THE TREES HOW STRAY THEIR SPEARS HOW KNOCK THEIR KNEES HOW WILD THEIR WATCH FIRES BURN THE MOTHER OF GOD GOES OVER THEM WALKING ON WIND AND FLAME AND THE STORM CLOUD DRIFTS FROM CITY AND DALE AND THE WHITE HORSE STAMPS IN THE WHITE HORSE VALE AND WE ALL SHALL YET DRINK CHRISTIAN ALE IN THE VILLAGE OF OUR NAME
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_07_chesterton_64kb
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