large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb_9
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"But for this earth most pitiful, This little land I know, If that which is for ever is, Or if our hearts shall break with bliss, Seeing the stranger go? BUT FOR THIS EARTH MOST PITIFUL THIS LITTLE LAND I KNOW IF THAT WHICH IS FOR EVER IS OR IF OUR HEART SHALL BREAK WITH BLISS SEEING THE STRANGER GO
 tree was a tree at last. Fearfully plain the flowers grew, Like the child's book to read, Or like a friend's face seen in a glass; He looked; and there Our Lady was, She stood and stroked the tall live grass As a man strokes his steed. Her face was like an open word When brave men speak and choose, The very colours of her coat Were better than good news. She spoke not, nor turned not, Nor any sign she cast, Only she stood up straight and free, Between the flowers in Athelney, And the river running past. One dim ancestral jewel hung On his ruined armour grey, He rent and cast it at her feet: Where, after centuries, with slow feet, Men came from hall and school and street And found it where it lay. "Mother of God," the wanderer said, "I am but a common king, Nor will I ask what saints may ask, To see a secret thing. "The gates of heaven are fearful gates Worse than the gates of hell; Not I would break the splendours barred Or seek to know the thing they guard, Which is too good to tell. E GRASS GREW TO BE GRASS INDEED AND THE TREE WAS A TREE AT LAST FEARFULLY PLAIN THE FLOWERS GREW LIKE THE CHILD'S BOOK TO READ OR LIKE A FRIEND'S FACE SEEN IN A GLASS HE LOOKED AND THERE OUR LADY WAS SHE STOOD AND STROKED THE TALL LIVE GRASS AS A MAN STROKES HIS STEED HER FACE WAS LIKE AN OPEN WORD WHEN BRAVE MEN SPEAK AND CHOOSE THE VERY COLOURS OF HER COAT WERE BETTER THAN GOOD NEWS SHE SPOKE NOT NOR TURNED NOT NOR ANY SIGN SHE CAST ONLY SHE STOOD UP STRAIGHT AND FREE BETWEEN THE FLOWERS IN ATOLNAE AND THE RIVER RUNNING PAST ONE DIM ANCESTRAL JEWEL HUNG ON HIS RUINED ARMOR GRAY HE RENT AND CAST IT AT HER FEET WHERE AFTER CENTURIES WITH SLOW FEET MEN CAME FROM HALL AT GHOUL AND STREET AND FOUND IT WHERE IT LAY MOTHER OF GOD THE WANDERER SAID I AM BUT A COMMON KING NOR WILL I ASK WHAT SAINTS MAY ASK TO SEE A SECRET THING THE GATES OF HEAVEN ARE FEARFUL GATES WORSE THAN THE GATES OF HELL NOT I WOULD BREAK THE SPLENDOR'S BARD OR SEEK TO NOTE THE THING THEY GUARD WHICH IS TOO GOOD TO TELL
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb.flac