The
Rolling English Road
Before
the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The
rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A
reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And
after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A
merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The
night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.
I
knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And
for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
But
I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
To
straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard
made,
Where
you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our
hands,
The
night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin
Sands.
His
sins they were forgiven him: or why do flowers run
Behind
him: and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?
The
wild thing went from left to right and knew not which
was
which,
But
the wild rose was above him when they found him in the
ditch.
God
pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear
The
night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.
My
friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage
Or
stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
But
walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
And
see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;
For
there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,
Before
we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.
G. K. Chesterton
