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