large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb_11
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"Ere the sad gods that made your gods Saw their sad sunrise pass, The White Horse of the White Horse Vale, That you have left to darken and fail, Was cut out of the grass. "Therefore your end is on you, Is on you and your kings, Not for a fire in Ely fen, Not that your gods are nine or ten, But because it is only Christian men Guard even heathen things. "For our God hath blessed creation, Calling it good. ERE THE SAD GODS THAT MADE YOUR GODS SAW THEIR SAD SUNRISE PASS THE WHITE HORSE OF THE WHITE HORSE VEIL THAT YOU HAVE LEFT TO DARKEN AND FAIL WAS CUT OUT OF THE GRASS THEREFORE YOUR END IS ON YOU IS ON YOU AND YOUR KINGS NOT FOR A FIRE IN ELLE FEN NOT THAT YOUR GODS ARE NINE OR TEN BUT BECAUSE IT IS ONLY CHRISTIAN MEN GUARD EVEN HEATHEN THINGS FOR OUR GOD HATH BLESSED CREATION CALLING IT GOOD
ugh we scatter and though we fly, And you hang over us like the sky, You are more tired of victory, Than we are tired of shame. "That though you hunt the Christian man Like a hare on the hill-side, The hare has still more heart to run Than you have heart to ride. "That though all lances split on you, All swords be heaved in vain, We have more lust again to lose Than you to win again. "Your lord sits high in the saddle, A broken-hearted king, But our king Alfred, lost from fame, Fallen among foes or bonds of shame, In I know not what mean trade or name, Has still some song to sing; "Our monks go robed in rain and snow, But the heart of flame therein, But you go clothed in feasts and flames, When all is ice within; "Nor shall all iron dooms make dumb Men wondering ceaselessly, If it be not better to fast for joy Than feast for misery. "Nor monkish order only Slides down, as field to fen, All things achieved and chosen pass, As the White Horse fades in the grass, No work of Christian men. SHADOW AND NOT UPON THE NAME THAT THOUGH WE SCATTER AND THOUGH WE FLY AND YOU HANG OVER US LIKE THE SKY YOU ARE MORE TIRED OF VICTORY THAN WE ARE OF SHAME THAT THOUGH YOU HUNT THE CHRISTIAN MEN LIKE A HARE ON THE HILL SIDE THE HARE HAS STILL MORE HEART TO RUN THAN YOU HAVE HEART TO RIDE THAT THOUGH ALL LANCES SPLIT ON YOU ALL SORTS BEHEAVED IN VAIN WE HAVE MORE LUST AGAIN TO LOSE THAN YOU TO WIN AGAIN YOUR LORD SITS HIGH IN THE SADDLE A BROKEN HEARTED KING BUT OUR KING ALFRED LOST FROM FAME FALLEN AMONG FOES OR BONDS OF SHAME IN I KNOW NOT WHAT MEAN TRADE OR NAME HAS STILL SOME SONG TO SING OUR MONKS GO ROBBED IN RAIN AND SNOW BUT THE HEART OF THE FLAME THEREIN BUT YOU GO CLOTHES IN FEASTS AND FLAMES AND ALL IS ICE WITHIN NOR SHALL ALL IRON DOOMS MAKE DUMB MEN WANDERING CEASELESSLY IF IT NOT BE BETTER TO FAST FOR JOY THAN FEAST FOR MISERY NOR MONKISH ORDER ONLY SLIDES DOWN AS FIELDS DEFEN ALL THINGS ACHIEVED AND CHOSEN PASS AS THE WHITE HORSE FADES IN THE GRASS NO WORK OF CHRISTIAN MEN
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb
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download/librilight/large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb.flac