Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.
Pucks Song
S
Into the oak-woods far?
O that was whence they hewed the keels
That rolled to Trafalgar.
To Bayham’s mouldering walls?
O there we cast the stout railings
That stand around St. Paul’s.
All hollow through the wheat?
O that was where they hauled the guns
That smote King Philip’s fleet.
Men sent in ancient years,
The horse-shoes red at Flodden Field,
The arrows at Poitiers!)
So busy by the brook?
She has ground her corn and paid her tax
Ever since Domesday Book.
And the dread ditch beside?
O that was where the Saxons broke
On the day that Harold died.
About the gates of Rye?
O that was where the Northmen fled,
When Alfred’s ships came by.
Where the red oxen browse?
O there was a City thronged and known,
Ere London boasted a house.
Of mound and ditch and wall?
O that was a Legion’s camping-place,
When Cæsar sailed from Gaul.
Like shadows on the Downs?
O they are the lines the Flint Men made,
To guard their wondrous towns.
Salt Marsh where now is corn—
Old Wars, old Peace, old Arts that cease,
And so was England born!
Water or wood or air,
But Merlin’s Isle of Gramarye,
Where you and I will fare!