Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/87

 XXI

HEN first the paving of the Road

Rang to the tread of the marching Roman,

And Cæsar's legions seaward strode

To find a yet unmastered foeman,—

Full many a curse, of ancient flavour,

Rolled far along the muddy Way;

A curse upon the highway's paver,

Whose echoes linger to this day!

A thousand years—(when England lay

Beneath the heel of the Norman raider):—

The cobbles of the age-worn Way

Echo the march of the mailed Crusader:

Whilst many an oath, of pious fervour,

Between their chaunt and roundelay,

Gives proof to any close observer,

That men are little changed to-day!

Again a thousand years—again

The ancient frontier Road enslaving,

Come horse and cannon, motor-train:—

All sweep along the narrow paving. 45