Dust.
When to utter dust we go,
Who his sum of deeds shall know?
When the names men call us by
Silent as our graves shall lie,
Potent from our deeds may be
Crown or cross of destiny.
Say, at Senlac, who was he,
Nameless as our graves shall be,
Hard who bent the backward bow,
Saw the guideless arrow go
Upward till its path was lost
Where the Saxon volleys crost?
Only God's long watch should tell
If the bow were bended well.
End of this file.
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