THE WOMAN IN THE FOREST
The thunder of the snorting swine,
Enormous in the gloam,
Rending among all roots that cling
And the wild horses whinnying
Were the night's noises when the King,
Shouldering his harp, went home.
Enormous in the gloam,
Rending among all roots that cling
And the wild horses whinnying
Were the night's noises when the King,
Shouldering his harp, went home.
With eyes of owl and feet of fox,
Full of all thoughts he went;
He marked the tilt of the pagan camp,
The paling of pine, the sentries' tramp,
And the one great stolen altar-lamp
Over Guthrum in his tent.
Full of all thoughts he went;
He marked the tilt of the pagan camp,
The paling of pine, the sentries' tramp,
And the one great stolen altar-lamp
Over Guthrum in his tent.
By scrub and thorn in Ethandune
That night the foe had lain;
Whence ran across the heather grey
The old stones of a Roman way;
And in a wood not far away
The pale road split in twain.
That night the foe had lain;
Whence ran across the heather grey
The old stones of a Roman way;
And in a wood not far away
The pale road split in twain.
He marked the wood and the cloven ways
With an old captain's eycs,
With an old captain's eycs,
51
