But the young earl said: "Ill the saints,
The saints of England, guard
The land wherein we pledge them gold!
The dykes decay, the King grows old,
And surely this is hard,
The saints of England, guard
The land wherein we pledge them gold!
The dykes decay, the King grows old,
And surely this is hard,
"That we be never rid of them,
That when his head is hoar,
He cannot say to them he smote
And spared with a hand hard at the throat,
‘Go, and return no more.’”
That when his head is hoar,
He cannot say to them he smote
And spared with a hand hard at the throat,
‘Go, and return no more.’”
Then Alfred smiled. And the smile of him
Was like the sun for power.
But he only pointed; bade them heed
Those peasants of the Berkshire breed,
Who plucked the old Horse of the weed
As they pluck it to this hour.
Was like the sun for power.
But he only pointed; bade them heed
Those peasants of the Berkshire breed,
Who plucked the old Horse of the weed
As they pluck it to this hour.
“Will ye part with the weeds for ever?
Or show daisies to the door?
Or will you bid the bold grass
Go, and return no more?
Or show daisies to the door?
Or will you bid the bold grass
Go, and return no more?
“So ceaseless and so secret,
Thrive terror and theft set free;
Treason and shame shall come to pass
While one weed flowers in a morass;
Thrive terror and theft set free;
Treason and shame shall come to pass
While one weed flowers in a morass;
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