large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb_49
large/5754/balladwhitehorse_1404_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladofthewhitehorse_03_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
"Wherefore I am a great king, And waste the world in vain, Because man hath not other power, Save that in dealing death for dower, He may forget it for an hour To remember it again." WHEREFORE I AM A GREAT KING AND WASTE THE WORLD IN VAIN BECAUSE MAN HATH NOT OTHER POWER SAVE THAT IN DEALING DEATH FOR DOWER HE MAY FORGET IT FOR AN HOUR REMEMBER IT AGAIN
his is a heavy matter, And the truth is cold to tell; Do we not know, have we not heard, The soul is like a lost bird, The body a broken shell. "And a man hopes, being ignorant, Till in white woods apart He finds at last the lost bird dead: And a man may still lift up his head But never more his heart. "There comes no noise but weeping Out of the ancient sky, And a tear is in the tiniest flower Because the gods must die. "The little brooks are very sweet, Like a girl's ribbons curled, But the great sea is bitter That washes all the world. "Strong are the Roman roses, Or the free flowers of the heath, But every flower, like a flower of the sea, Smelleth with the salt of death. "And the heart of the locked battle Is the happiest place for men; When shrieking souls as shafts go by And many have died and all may die; Though this word be a mystery, Death is most distant then. "Death blazes bright above the cup, And clear above the crown; But in that dream of battle We seem to tread it down. HOUT HOPE EVEN FOR EVIL GODS FOR THIS IS A HEAVY MATTER AND THE TRUTH IS COLD TO TELL DO WE NOT KNOW HAVE WE NOT HEARD THE SOUL IS LIKE A LOST BIRD THE BODY A BROKEN SHELL AND A MAN HOPES BEING IGNORANT TILL IN THE WHITE WOODS APART HE FINDS AT LAST THE LOST BIRD DEAD AND A MAN LAY STILL LIFT UP HIS HEAD BUT NEVER MORE HIS HEART THERE COMES NO NOISE BUT WEEPING OUT OF THE ANCIENT SKY AND A TEAR IS IN THE TINIEST FLOWER BECAUSE THE GODS MUST DIE THE LITTLE BROOKS ARE VERY SWEET LIKE A GIRL'S RIBBONS CURLED BUT THE GREAT SEA IS BITTER THAT WASHES ALL THE WORLD STRONG ARE THE ROMAN ROSES OR THE FREE FLOWERS OF THE HEARTH BUT EVERY FLOWER LIKE A FLOWER OF THE SEA SMELETH WITH THE SALT OF DEATH AND THE HEART OF THE LOCKED BATTLE IS THE HAPPIEST PLACE FOR MEN WHEN SHRIEKING SOULS AS SHAFTS GO BY AND MANY HAVE DIED AND ALL MAY DIE THOUGH THIS WORLD BE A MYSTERY DEATH IS MOST DISTANT THEN DEATH BLAZES BRIGHT ABOVE THE CUP AND CLEAR ABOVE THE CROWN BUT IN THAT DREAM OF BATTLE WE SEEM TO TREADOW
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