large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb_49
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
He only heard the heathen men, Whose eyes are blue and blind, Singing what shameful things are done Between the sunlit sea and the sun When the land is left behind. HE ONLY HEARD THE HEATHEN MEN WHOSE EYES ARE BLUE AND BLIND SINGING WHAT SHAMEFUL THINGS ARE DONE BETWEEN THE SUNLIT SEA AND THE SUN WHEN THE LAND IS LEFT BEHIND END
 They trim sad lamps, they touch sad strings, Hearing the heavy purple wings, Where the forgotten seraph kings Still plot how God shall die. "The wise men know all evil things Under the twisted trees, Where the perverse in pleasure pine And men are weary of green wine And sick of crimson seas. "But you and all the kind of Christ Are ignorant and brave, And you have wars you hardly win And souls you hardly save. "I tell you naught for your comfort, Yea, naught for your desire, Save that the sky grows darker yet And the sea rises higher. "Night shall be thrice night over you, And heaven an iron cope. Do you have joy without a cause, Yea, faith without a hope?" Even as she spoke she was not, Nor any word said he, He only heard, still as he stood Under the old night's nodding hood, The sea-folk breaking down the wood Like a high tide from sea. He only heard the heathen men, Whose eyes are blue and bleak, Singing about some cruel thing Done by a great and smiling king In daylight on a deck.  WICKED THINGS ARE WRITTEN ON THE SKY THEY TRIM SAD LAMPS THEY TOUCH SAD STRINGS HEARING THE HEAVY PURPLE WINGS WHERE THE FORGOTTEN SERAPH KINGS STILL PLOT HOW GOD SHALL DIE THE WISE MEN KNOW ALL EVIL THINGS UNDER THE TWISTED TREES WHERE THE PERVERSE IN PLEASURE PINE AND MEN ARE WEARY OF GREEN WINE AND SICK OF CRIMSON SEAS BUT YOU AND ALL THE KIND OF CHRIST ARE IGNORANT AND BRAVE AND YOU HAVE WARS YOU HEARTILY WIN AND SOULS YOU HARDLY SAVE I TELL YOU NOT FOR YOUR COMFORT YE NOT FOR YOUR DESIRE SAVE THAT THE SKY GROWS DARKER YET AND THE SEA RISES HIGHER NIGHT SHALL BE THRICE NIGHT OVER YOU AND HEAVEN AN IRON COPE DO YOU HAVE JOY WITHOUT A CAUSE YE FAITH WITHOUT A HOPE EVEN AS SHE SPOKE SHE WAS NOT NOR ANY WORDS THAT HE HE ONLY HEARD STILL AS HE STOOD UNDER THE OLD NIGHT'S NODDING HOOD THE SEA FOLK BREAKING DOWN THE WOOD LIKE A HIGH TIDE FROM SEA HE ONLY HEARD THE HEATHEN MEN WHOSE EYES ARE BLUE AND BLEAK SINGING ABOUT SOME CRUEL THING DONE BY A GREAT AND SMILING KING IN DAYLIGHT ON DECK
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