large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_04_chesterton_64kb_2
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_04_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"Up on the old white road, brothers, Up on the Roman walls! For this is the night of the drawing of swords, And the tainted tower of the heathen hordes Leans to our hammers, fires and cords, Leans a little and falls. "Follow the star that lives and leaps, Follow the sword that sings, For we go gathering heathen men, A terrible harvest, ten by ten, As the wrath of the last red autumn  then When Christ reaps down the kings. UP ON THE OLD WHITE ROAD BROTHERS UP ON THE ROMAN WALLS FOR THIS IS THE NIGHT OF THE DRAWING OF SWORDS AND THE TAINTED TOWER OF THE HEATHEN HORDES LEANS TO OUR HAMMERS FIRES AND CHORDS LEANS A LITTLE AND FALLS FOLLOW THE STAR THAT LIVES AND LEAPS FOLLOW THE SWORD THAT SINGS FOR WE GO GATHERING HEATHEN MEN THE TERRIBLE HARVEST TEN BY TEN AS THE WRATH OF THE LAST RED AUTUMN THEN WHEN CHRIST REAPED DOWN THE KINGS
e knows all earthly things. "Pride flings frail palaces at the sky, As a man flings up sand, But the firm feet of humility Take hold of heavy land. "Pride juggles with her toppling towers, They strike the sun and cease, But the firm feet of humility They grip the ground like trees. "He that hath failed in a little thing Hath a sign upon the brow; And the Earls of the Great Army Have no such seal to show. "The red print on my forehead, Small flame for a red star, In the van of the violent marching, then When the sky is torn of the trumpets ten, And the hands of the happy howling men Fling wide the gates of war. "This blow that I return not Ten times will I return On kings and earls of all degree, And armies wide as empires be Shall slide like landslips to the sea If the red star burn. "One man shall drive a hundred, As the dead kings drave; Before me rocking hosts be riven, And battering cohorts backwards driven, For I am the first king known of Heaven That has been struck like a slave. HAS BEEN AN ILL SERVANT HE KNOWS ALL EARTHLY THINGS PRIDE FLINGS FRAIL PALACES AT THE SKY AS A MAN FLINGS UP SAND BUT THE FIRM FEET OF HUMILITY TAKE HOLD OF HEAVY LAND PRIDE JUGGLES WITH HER TOPPLING TOWERS THEY STRIKE THE SUN AND CEASE BUT THE FIRM FEET OF HUMILITY THEY GRIP THE GROUND LIKE TREES HE THAT HATH FAILED IN A LITTLE THING HATH A SIGN UPON HIS BROW AND THE EARLS OF THE GREAT ARMY HAVE NO SUCH SEAL TO SHOW THE RED PRINT ON MY FOREHEAD SMALL FLAME FOR A RED STAR IN THE VAN OF THE VIOLENT MARCHING THEN WHEN THE SKY IS TORN AND THE TRUMPETS TEN AND THE HANDS OF THE HAPPY HOWLING MEN FLING WIDE THE GATES OF WAR THIS BLOW THAT I RETURN NOT TEN TIMES WILL I RETURN ON KINGS AND EARLS OF ALL DEGREE AND ARMIES WIDE AS EMPIRES BE SHALL SLIDE LIKE LAND SHIPS TO THE SEA IF THE RED STAR BURN ONE MAN SHALL DRIVE A HUNDRED AS THE DEAD KINGS DRAVE BEFORE ME ROCKING HOSTS BE RIVEN AND BATTERING COHORTS BACKWARDS DRIVEN FOR I AM THE FIRST KING KNOWN OF HEAVEN THAT HAS BEEN STRUCK LIKE A SLAVE
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_04_chesterton_64kb
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