large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb_45
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"The meanest man in grey fields gone Behind the set of sun, Heareth between star and other star, Through the door of the darkness fallen ajar, The council, eldest of things that are, The talk of the Three in One. THE MEANEST MAN IN GRAYFIELDS GONE BEHIND THE SET OF SUN HEARETH BETWEEN STAR AND OTHER STAR THROUGH THE DOOR OF DARKNESS FALLEN AJAR THE COUNSEL ELDEST OF THINGS THAT ARE THE TALK OF THREE AND ONE
n 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. "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? "When our last bow is broken, Queen, And our last javelin cast, Under some sad, green evening sky, Holding a ruined cross on high, Under warm westland grass to lie, Shall we come home at last?" And a voice came human but high up, Like a cottage climbed among The clouds; or a serf of hut and croft That sits by his hovel fire as oft, But hears on his old bare roof aloft A belfry burst in song. "The gates of heaven are lightly locked, We do not guard our gain, The heaviest hind may easily Come silently and suddenly Upon me in a lane. "And any little maid that walks In good thoughts apart, May break the guard of the Three Kings And see the dear and dreadful things I hid within my heart. 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 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 WHEN OUR LAST BOW IS BROKEN QUEEN AND OUR LAST JAVELIN CAST UNDER SOME SAD GREEN EVENING SKY HOLDING A RUINED CROSS ON HIGH UNDER WARM WESTLAND GRASS TO LIE SHALL WE COME HOME AT LAST AND A VOICE CAME HUMAN BUT HIGH UP LIKE A COTTAGE CLIMBED AMONG THE CLOUDS OR A SURF OF HUT AND CROFT THAT SITS BY HIS HOVEL FIRE AS OFT BUT HEARS ON HIS OLD BARE ROOF ALOFT A BELFRY BURST IN SONG THE GATES OF HEAVEN ARE LIGHTLY LOCKED WE DO NOT GUARD OUR GAIN THE HEAVIEST HIND MAY EASILY COME SILENTLY AND SUDDENLY UPON ME IN A LANE AND ANY LITTLE MAID THAT WALKS IN GOOD THOUGHTS APART MAY BREAK THE GUARD OF THE THREE KINGS AND SEE THE DEAR AND DREADFUL THINGS I HID WITHIN MY HEART
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb
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download/librilight/large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_01_chesterton_64kb.flac