On Edington Hill
STAns wink beyond the dowaland barrows Where Alfred marched to meet the. Danes, Far in advance of flinthead arrows And unaware of aeroplanes.
Now the white owl en silent wing Crosses the looming lonely track ;
And here our anti-pagan Icing Beat the red-handed plunderers back.
That Eastertide—historians write— He saved the future by the sword Which emblemed in barbaric night The cross of .Jesus Christ his Lord. That was the crucial point, men say For Alfredis wisdom was his crown, Who, in the old skull-shattering way, Christened the powers of darkness down,
Dawn breaks where tribes once fought with flints : Where Alfred smote, the white owl flits Whose instincts arc as old as titne.
And we—today's historian hints May all be Alfreds, bombed to bits
In conflict with a creed of crime.
STEC FRIED SASSOON.
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