Page:Lollingdon Downs and other poems, Masefield, 1917.djvu/44

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My God, hark how the trumpets bray.

They do. You see the end of things.

The power of a thousand kings

Helped us to this, and now the power

Is so much hay that was a flower.

We have been very great and strong.

That's over now.

It will be long

Before the world will see our like.

We've kept these thieves beyond the dyke

A good long tune, here on the Wall.

Colonel, we ought to sound a call

To mark the end of this.