See you our pastures wide and lone,
Where the red oxen browse?
O there was a City thronged and known,
Ere London boasted a house.
See you our stilly woods of oak,
And the dread ditch beside?
O that was where the Saxons broke
On the day that Harold died.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comment policy: All comments are welcome, but will be moderated (i.e. read by me before publishing). This may take time. Only comments which add something constructive to the post in question (and which will be of interest to other readers) will be published. Spam will be hosed out, and its originators hunted down. Thanks.