And Mark had fought because all arms And Colan fought with a double mind, He saw wheels break and work run back, Therefore is Mark forgotten, That was wise with his tongue and brave; And the cairn over Colan crumbled, And the cross on Eldred's grave. Their great souls went on a wind away, Because in the forest of all fears, That is more than mastery. And as a child whose bricks fall down, He began his life once more. He took his ivory horn unslung On a dark horse at the double way He saw great Guthrum ride; And Ogier's red and hated head Moved in some talk or task; But the men seemed scattered in the brier, And some of them had lit a fire, And joyous of the sudden stay Set horn to mouth and blew. And they all abode like statues One sitting on the stone, One half-way through the thorn hedge tall, One with a leg across a wall; And one looked backwards, very small, Grey twilight and a yellow star Hung over thorn and hill. Two spears and a cloven war-shield lay Loose on the road as cast-away, The horn died faint in the forests grey, And the fleeing men stood still. "Brothers at arms," said Alfred, "On this side lies the foe; Are slavery and starvation flowers That you should pluck them so? "For whether is it better To be prodded with Danish poles, Having hewn a chamber in a ditch, And hounded like a howling witch, Or smoked to death in holes? "Or that before the red cock crow, "To sweat a slave to a race of slaves, To drink up infamy? No, brothers, by your leave, I think Her eyes were sad withouten art, Then the last charge went blindly, And all too lost for fear; The Danes closed round, a roaring ring, Drove at him with a spear. But the Danes were wild with laughter, As Alfred leapt aside. Short time had shaggy Ogier He knew King Alfred's axe on high, He cowered beneath it with a cry- Then bursting all and blasting, Came Christendom like death, Kicked from such catapults of will The staves shiver, the barrels spill, The waggons waver and crash and kill The waggoners beneath. Barriers go backwards, banners rend, Horses ramp high and rock and boil And break their golden reins, And slide on carnage clamorously, Down where the bitter blood doth lie, Where Ogier went on foot to die, In the old way of the Danes. "The high tide!" King Alfred cried; "The high tide and the turn! As a tide turns on the tall grey seas, See how they waver in the trees, How stray their spears, how knock their knees, How wild their watchfires burn! "The Mother of God goes over them, Walking on wind and flame, And the storm-cloud drifts from city and dale, And the White Horse stamps in the White Horse Vale, And we all shall yet drink Christian ale, "The Mother of God goes over them, moon; Endeth the Battle of Ethandune, The Danes went clamouring, For dire was Alfred in his hour And behind, his men came murderously, And Edgar of the Golden Ship He broke with his own hand, And Torr out of his tiny boat, Whose eyes beheld the Nile, Wulf with his war cry on his lips, And Hacro born in the eclipse, Who blocked the Seine with battle-ships Round Paris on the Isle. And Hacon of the Harvest-song, And Dirck from the Elbe he slew, And Cnut that melted Durham bell, And Fulk and fiery Oscar fell, And Goderic and Sigael, And Uriel of the Yew. And highest sang the slaughter, And fastest fell the slain, When from the wood-road's blackening throat A crowning and crashing wonder smote For the dregs of Colan's company- Had gathered and grown and heard the din, And with wild yells came pouring in And bright with blood for woad. And bare and bloody and aloft They bore before their band And a strange music went with him, Loud and yet strangely far; The wild pipes of the western land, Too keen for the ear to understand, Sang high and deathly on each hand When the dead man went to war. Blocked between ghost and buccaneer, Brave men have dropped and died, And the wild sea-lords well might quail As the ghastly war-pipes of the Gael Called to the horns of White Horse Vale, And all the horns replied. And Hildred the poor hedger Cut down four captains dead, And Halfgar laid seven others low, And the great earls wavered to and fro For the living and the dead. And Gorlias grasped the great flag, The Raven of Odin, torn; As a turn of the wheel of tempest Tilts up the whole sky tall, And cliffs of wan cloud luminous Lean out like great walls over us, As if the heavens might fall; As such a tall and tilted sky Sends certain snow or light, So did the eyes of Guthrum change, strange Than a thousand men in flight. For not till the floor of the skies is split And hell-fire shines through the sea, Or the stars look up through the rent earth's knees, Cometh such rending of certainties, He set his horse in the battle-breach King Guthrum was a great lord, And higher than his godsHe put the popes to laughter, He chid the saints with rods. He took this hollow world of ours In Wessex in the forest, In the breaking of the spears, We set a sign on Guthrum To blaze a thousand years. Where the high saddles jostle "ONCE there were two sailors; and one of them was Joe, and the other one was Jerry, and they were fishermen. And they'd a young apprentice-feller, and his name was Jim. And Joe was a great one for his pot, and Jerry was a wonder at his pipe; and Jim did all the work, and both of them banged him. So one time Joe and Jerry were in the beer-house, and there was a young parson there, telling the folks about foreign things, about plants and that. 'Ah,' he says, 'what wonders there are in the west.' "What sort of wonders, begging your pardon, sir,' says Joe. 'What sort of wonders might them be?' "Why, all sorts of wonders,' says the parson. 'Why, in the west,' he says, 'there's things you wouldn't believe. No, you wouldn't be |