large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb_58
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
Till Harold laughed and snatched the harp, The kinsman of the King, A big youth, beardless like a child, Whom the new wine of war sent wild, Smote, and began to sing   And he cried of the ships as eagles That circle fiercely and fly, And sweep the seas and strike the towns From Cyprus round to Skye. TILL HAROLD LAUGHED AND SNATCHED THE HARP THE KINSMAN OF THE KING A BIG YOUTH BEARDLESS LIKE A CHILD WHOM THE NEW WINE OF WAR SENT WILD SMOTE AND BEGAN TO SING AND HE CRIED OF THE SHIPS OF EAGLES THAT CIRCLE FIERCELY AND FLY AND SWEEP THE SEAS AND STRIKE THE TOWNS FROM CYPRESS ROUND TO SKY
ing, And Ogier of the Stone and Sling, And Elf, whose gold lute had a string That sighed like all desire. The Earls of the Great Army That no men born could tire, Whose flames anear him or aloof Took hold of towers or walls of proof, Fire over Glastonbury roof And out on Ely, fire. And Guthrum heard the soldiers' tale And bade the stranger play; Not harshly, but as one on high, On a marble pillar in the sky, Who sees all folk that live and die-- Pigmy and far away. And Alfred, King of Wessex, Looked on his conqueror-- And his hands hardened; but he played, And leaving all later hates unsaid, He sang of some old British raid On the wild west march of yore. He sang of war in the warm wet shires, Where rain nor fruitage fails, Where England of the motley states Deepens like a garden to the gates In the purple walls of Wales. He sang of the seas of savage heads And the seas and seas of spears, Boiling all over Offa's Dyke, What time a Wessex club could strike The kings of the mountaineers. TH HAROLD NEPHEW OF THE KING AND AGIA OF THE STONE AND SLING AND ELF WHOSE GOLD LUTE WAS A STRING THAT SIGHED LIKE ALL DESIRE THE EARLS OF THE GREAT ARMY THAT NO MAN BORN COULD TIRE WHOSE FLAMES ANEAR HIM O'ER ALOOF TOOK HOLD OF TOWERS OR WALLS OR PROOF FIRE OVER GLASTONBURY ROOF AND OUT ON ELLAE FIRE AND GERTHRUM HEARD THE SOLDIER'S TALE AND BADE THE STRANGER PLAY NOT HARSHLY BUT AS WHAT ON HIGH ON A MARBLE PILLAR IN THE SKY WHO SEES ALL FOLK THAT LIVE AND DIE PIGMY AND FAR AWAY AND ALFRED KING OF WESSEX LOOKED ON HIS CONQUEROR AND HIS HANDS HARDENED BUT HE PLAYED LEAVING ALL LATER HATES UNSAID HE SANG OF SOME OLD BRITISH RAID ON THE WILD WEST MARCH OF YORE HE SANG OF WAR IN THE WARM WET SHIRES WHERE RAIN NOR FRUITAGE FALLS WHERE ENGLAND OF THE MOTLEY STATES DEEPENS LIKE A GARDEN TO THE GATES IN THE PURPLE WALLS OF WALES HE SANG OF THE SEAS OF SAVAGE HEADS AND THE SEAS AND THE SEAS OF SPEARS BOILING ALL OVER OVA'S DIKE WHAT TIME A WESSEX CLUB COULD STRIKE THE KINGS OF THE MOUNTAINEERS
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb
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