My vision saith not; and I see
No more; but now ride doubtfully
To the battle of the plain."
No more; but now ride doubtfully
To the battle of the plain."
And the grass-edge of the great down
Was cut clean as a lawn,
While the levies thronged from near and far,
From the warm woods of the western star,
And the King went out to his last war
On a tall grey horse at dawn.
Was cut clean as a lawn,
While the levies thronged from near and far,
From the warm woods of the western star,
And the King went out to his last war
On a tall grey horse at dawn.
And news of his far-off fighting
Came slow and brokenly,
From the land of the East Saxons,
From the sunrise and the sea.
Came slow and brokenly,
From the land of the East Saxons,
From the sunrise and the sea.
From the plains of the white sunrise,
And sad St. Edmund's crown,
Where the pools of Essex pale and gleam
Out beyond London town —
And sad St. Edmund's crown,
Where the pools of Essex pale and gleam
Out beyond London town —
In mighty and doubtful fragments,
Like faint or fabled wars,
Climbed the old hills of his renown,
Where the bald brow of White Horse Down
Is close to the cold stars.
Like faint or fabled wars,
Climbed the old hills of his renown,
Where the bald brow of White Horse Down
Is close to the cold stars.
But away in the eastern places
The wind of death walked high,
The wind of death walked high,
130
