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第8节

the ballad of the white horse-第8节

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Where Nothing is struck and sounds;
It is not; by Thor; these monkish men
These humbled Wessex hounds

〃Not this pale line of Christian hinds;
This one white string of men;
Shall keep us back from the end of the world;
And the things that happen then。

〃It is not Alfred's dwarfish sword;
Nor Egbert's pigmy crown;
Shall stay us now that descend in thunder;
Rending the realms and the realms thereunder;
Down through the world and down。〃

There was that in the wild men back of him;
There was that in his own wild song;
A dizzy throbbing; a drunkard smoke;
That dazed to death all Wessex folk;
And swept their spears along。

Vainly the sword of Colan
And the axe of Alfred plied
The Danes poured in like a brainless plague;
And knew not when they died。

Prince Colan slew a score of them;
And was stricken to his knee;
King Alfred slew a score and seven
And was borne back on a tree。

Back to the black gate of the woods;
Back up the single way;
Back by the place of the parting ways
Christ's knights were whirled away。

And when they came to the parting ways
Doom's heaviest hammer fell;
For the King was beaten; blind; at bay;
Down the right lane with his array;
But Colan swept the other way;
Where he smote great strokes and fell。

The thorn…woods over Ethandune
Stand sharp and thick as spears;
By night and furze and forest…harms
Far sundered were the friends in arms;
The loud lost blows; the last alarms;
Came not to Alfred's ears。

The thorn…woods over Ethandune
Stand stiff as spikes in mail;
As to the Haut King came at morn
Dead Roland on a doubtful horn;
Seemed unto Alfred lightly borne
The last cry of the Gael。



BOOK VIII

ETHANDUNE: THE LAST CHARGE



Away in the waste of White Horse Down
An idle child alone
Played some small game through hours that pass;
And patiently would pluck the grass;
Patiently push the stone。

On the lean; green edge for ever;
Where the blank chalk touched the turf;
The child played on; alone; divine;
As a child plays on the last line
That sunders sand and surf。

For he dwelleth in high divisions
Too simple to understand;
Seeing on what morn of mystery
The Uncreated rent the sea
With roarings; from the land。

Through the long infant hours like days
He built one tower in vain
Piled up small stones to make a town;
And evermore the stones fell down;
And he piled them up again。

And crimson kings on battle…towers;
And saints on Gothic spires;
And hermits on their peaks of snow;
And heroes on their pyres;

And patriots riding royally;
That rush the rocking town;
Stretch hands; and hunger and aspire;
Seeking to mount where high and higher;
The child whom Time can never tire;
Sings over White Horse Down。

And this was the might of Alfred;
At the ending of the way;
That of such smiters; wise or wild;
He was least distant from the child;
Piling the stones all day。

For Eldred fought like a frank hunter
That killeth and goeth home;
And Mark had fought because all arms
Rang like the name of Rome。

And Colan fought with a double mind;
Moody and madly gay;
But Alfred fought as gravely
As a good child at play。

He saw wheels break and work run back
And all things as they were;
And his heart was orbed like victory
And simple like despair。

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;
And they have not tale or tomb;
And Alfred born in Wantage
Rules England till the doom。

Because in the forest of all fears
Like a strange fresh gust from sea;
Struck him that ancient innocence
That is more than mastery。

And as a child whose bricks fall down
Re…piles them o'er and o'er;
Came ruin and the rain that burns;
Returning as a wheel returns;
And crouching in the furze and ferns
He began his life once more。

He took his ivory horn unslung
And smiled; but not in scorn:
〃Endeth the Battle of Ethandune
With the blowing of a horn。〃

On a dark horse at the double way
He saw great Guthrum ride;
Heard roar of brass and ring of steel;
The laughter and the trumpet peal;
The pagan in his pride。

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 one had broached a cask。

And waggons one or two stood up;
Like tall ships in sight;
As if an outpost were encamped
At the cloven ways for night。

And joyous of the sudden stay
Of Alfred's routed few;
Sat one upon a stone to sigh;
And some slipped up the road to fly;
Till Alfred in the fern hard by
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;
Far up the road; alone。

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 forest 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
All we; a thousand strong;
Go down the dark road to God's house;
Singing a Wessex song?

〃To sweat a slave to a race of slaves;
To drink up infamy?
No; brothers; by your leave; I think
Death is a better ale to drink;
And by all the stars of Christ that sink;
The Danes shall drink with me。

〃To grow old cowed in a conquered land;
With the sun itself discrowned;
To see trees crouch and cattle slink
Death is a better ale to drink;
And by high Death on the fell brink
That flagon shall go round。

〃Though dead are all the paladins
Whom glory had in ken;
Though all your thunder…sworded thanes
With proud hearts died among the Danes;
While a man remains; great war remains:
Now is a war of men。

〃The men that tear the furrows;
The men that fell the trees;
When all their lords be lost and dead
The bondsmen of the earth shall tread
The tyrants of the seas。

〃The wheel of the roaring stillness
Of all labours under the sun;
Speed the wild work as well at least
As the whole world's work is done。

〃Let Hildred hack the shield…wall
Clean as he hacks the hedge;
Let Gurth the fowler stand as cool
As he stands on the chasm's edge;

〃Let Gorlias ride the sea…kings
As Gorlias rides the sea;
Then let all hell and Denmark drive;
Yelling to all its fiends alive;
And not a rag care we。〃

When Alfred's word was ended
Stood firm that feeble line;
Each in his place with club or spear;
And fury deeper than deep fear;
And smiles as sour as brine。

And the King held up the horn and said;
〃See ye my father's horn;
That Egbert blew in his empery;
Once; when he rode out commonly;
Twice when he rode for venery;
And thrice on the battle…morn。

〃But heavier fates have fallen
The horn of the Wessex kings;
And I blew once; the riding sign;
To call you to the fighting line
And glory and all good things。

〃And now two blasts; the hunting sign;
Because we turn to bay;
But I will not blow the three blasts;
Till we be lost or they。

〃And now I blow the hunting sign;
Charge some by rule and rod;
But when I blow the battle sign;
Charge all and go to God。〃

Wild stared the Danes at the double ways
Where they loitered; all at large;
As that dark line for the last time
Doubled the knee to charge

And caught their weapons clumsily;
And marvelled how and why
In such degree; by rule and rod;
The people of the peace of God
Went roaring down to die。

And when the last arrow
Was fitted and was flown;
When the broken shield hung on the breast;
And the hopeless lance was laid in rest;
And the hopeless horn blown;

The King looked up; and what he saw
Was a great light like death;
For Our Lady stood on the standards rent;
As lonely and as innocent
As when between white walls she went
And the lilies of Nazareth。

One instant in a still light
He saw Our Lady then;
Her dress was soft as western sky;
And she was a queen most womanly
But she was a queen of men。

Over the iron forest
He saw Our Lady stand;
Her eyes were sad withouten art;
And seven swords were in her heart
But one was in her hand。

Then the last charge went blindly;
And all too lost for fear:
The Danes closed round; a roaring ring;
And twenty clubs rose o'er the King;
Four Danes hewed at him; halloing;
And Ogier of the Stone and Sling
Drove at him with a spear。

But the Danes were wild with laughter;
And the great spear swung wide;
The point stuck to a straggling tree;
And either host cried suddenly;
As Alfred leapt aside。

Short time had shaggy Ogier
To pull his lance in line
He knew King Alfred's axe on high;
He heard it rushing through the sky;

He cowered beneath it with a cry
It split him to the spine:
And Alfred sprang over him dead;
And blew the battle sign。

Then bursting all and blasting
Came Christendom like death;
Kicked of such cat

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