Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936). Verse: 1885–1918. 1922.
The Pirates in England
W
And the sceptre passed from her hand,
The pestilent Picts leaped over the wall
To harry the English land.
So quick to laughter and tears,
They came panting with hate and haste
For the loot of five hundred years.
They ruined temple and town—
They swept like wolves through the standing crops
Crying that Rome was down.
Of beauty and strength and worth,
But they could not wipe out the Viking’s Wind,
That brings the ships from the North.
Nor what those gales set free—
The pirate ships with their close-reefed sails,
Leaping from sea to sea.
Seen nearer and more plain,
Dipping into the troughs like a gull,
And gull-like rising again—
In the high snake-headed stem,
Searching the beach while her sail comes down,
They had forgotten them!
To meet her hand to hand,
As she took the beach with a grind and a roar,
And the pirates rushed inland.