University of Virginia Library


89

ALFRED.

I will sing of Saxon Alfred,
Alfred, king, and clerk, and bard;
Triple name, and triple glory,
By no stain of baseness marred.
Blood of Cerdic, blood of Ine,
Blood of Egbert in his veins;
Reaper of the past, and sower
Of the future, Alfred reigns.
Mighty England, queen of peoples,
Slept well-cradled in his breast,
Grew to world-wide reach of lordship
From the Saxon of the West.

90

'Mid the leafy wealth of Berkshire
Oak and beech in breezy play,
'Mid green England's gardened beauty,
Up he shot into the day;
Shot and rose, and grew to youthhood,
'Neath a mother's gentle care,
Osburh, with a soul as kindly
As the balmy summer air.
And he sat and breathed her sweetness,
And he drank with greedy ear
Tales of old ancestral glory,
When no plundering Danes were near.
And his heart did beat accordant,
And his eye with joy did swell,
When with mother's love she mingled
Matin chant and vesper bell.
Keen to learn and quick was Alfred,
From a song or from a book;

91

Never slow to catch the meaning
Of a gesture or a look.
Like wise bird that flits about,
Linnet, finch, or crow, or sparrow,
Pecking seed with lively beak,
From brown track of hoe or harrow;
Or like fruitful honey-bee
In bright glow of summer weather,
Wise the thorny spray to plunder,
Or the tufts of purple heather.
Mild was Alfred as a maiden;
But with soul untaught to fear,
He, in Hubert's craft the foremost,
Lanced the boar and chased the deer.
Nor in breezy forest only
Grew, and kind embrace of home,
But with wondering eye young Alfred
Saw the pomp of mighty Rome.

92

And with wider view grew wider,
And more wise with vagrant ken,
What to shun and what to gather
From the works of diverse men.
Thus the youth; but storms were brewing
From the rude sea-roving clan,
Storms to front with manly stoutness,
When the youth should be a man.
Drifting as a grey blast drifteth
From the sharp and biting East,
Growing with the greed of plunder,
Ever as their spoil increased,
Came the Northmen. Where the waters
Of the Ouse, ship-bearing, sweep
Round the palace of the Cæsars;
Where on Durham's templed steep
Learnèd Bede and saintly Cuthbert
Slept in keep of holy men;

93

Where the toilful monks of Croyland
Clave the clod and drained the fen,
Honest work and sacred uses
Trampling under foot profane,
Revelling in blood and murder,
Lust and rapine, came the Dane.
On the sunny slope of Bury,
Where the fruitful fields are spread,
From its trunk the savage Ingvar
Severed Edmund's holy head.
Westward then the sea-kings drifted;
Thames with gentle-flowing water
Shrank perturbed, and castled Reading
Wept o'er fields of crimson slaughter.
Fear smote bravest hearts; but Alfred,
With the young man's pride of daring,
Scaled the bristling steep of Ashdown,
Fined them there with loss unsparing.

94

Bravely he; but as in spring-time,
Big with ever new supplies,
Widely spread the snow-fed waters
O'er the green embankment rise,
So the Vampires of the North Sea,
Self-recruited more and more,
Sweep with swelling devastation
All the vexed Devonian shore.
But the hunted beast finds shelter.
Alfred fled, but might not yield;
In a tangled maze of marshes,
Westmost Somerset did shield
England's saviour. Lurking lowly
With the lowliest in the land,
There, a cowherd with the cowherds,
And a scanty faithful band,
Feeding pigs with roots and acorns,
Wandering in poor harper's guise,

95

For God's hour of sure redemption
Alfred waits with faithful eyes.
With his mother's saintly lessons,
With King David's holy psalm,
'Mid the swell and roar of danger
He doth keep his spirit calm.
God-sent visions cheered his slumbers;
Holy Cuthbert, from the Tyne,
Came and filled with bread his basket,
Filled his scanted cup with wine.
Fenced with bristling wood and marshes,
In the isle of Athelney,
Where the creeping stream disputes
Its doubtful border with the sea:
There he lurked; and there he waited
Till the favouring hour; and then,
At his call the golden dragon,
Over forest, moor, and fen,

96

To the reborn strength of Wessex
Spread its wing. With heavy loss,
At Ethandune, the savage Viking
Bit the ground, and kissed the cross.
Alfred now is king indeed—
King as few great kings may be;
He hath gained his crown by labour,
He hath set his people free.
With a heart that never fainted,
With a faith that never failed,
With an eye that watched and waited,
With a strong arm that prevailed,
He hath fought and conquered. Now,
What remains for him to do?
What the great man ever doeth,
From the old to shape the new:

97

Not by forceful harsh uprooting,
But with gently guiding hand,
As a father guides his children,
Spreading union through the land.
Stern decree and kindly caring
Turned rude souls to loyal awe;
Christ and Moses, nicely blended,
Swayed his soul and shaped his law.
If a poor man feared a rich man,
He might knock at Alfred's gate;
If a rich man wronged a poor man,
He must fear a felon's fate.
If you hung a golden bracelet
By the road in Alfred's time,
No rude hand might dare remove it,
Such sure vengeance followed crime.
Nor alone with finely-feeling
Touch he swayed the pulse of home,

98

But leagued with kings beyond the Channel,
And the sacred state of Rome,
Eastward far to broad-streamed Indus
Saxon Alfred's greeting came,
And the remnant of St Thomas
Hailed the omen of his name.
But not like the Macedonian,
Alfred triumphed with the sword;
O'er the scholar's book of learning
He with pious patience pored.
Well he knew that of all noble
Doing Thought is rightful lord;
And the pen indites the wisdom
That gives honour to the sword.
With a ring of learnèd clerics
He embraced his kingly throne,
And their wisdom, freely subject,
Paid rich tribute to his own.

99

As a wise physician gathers
Healing herbs from field and shore,
So from Saxon books and Latin
Alfred swelled his thoughtful store.
Seeking far and searching deeply,
Everywhere he culled the best;
Gospel grace and Stoic sentence
Warmed his heart and mailed his breast.
From the Pope and from the Pagan,
Greekish school and monkish college,
Where the seed of truth was scattered,
Alfred reaped the crop of knowledge;
Reaped the lore of all that hated
Darkness, all that loved the light,
All that called him England's darling,
Champion of the Saxon right.
But the sky of kings is never
Long from troublous clouding clear;

100

Evermore some gathered thunder
Taints the summer joy with fear.
Once again the sea-marauders
Dashed his cup of bliss with bale,
And the Viking oared his galleys
Up the tide of Kentish Swale.
Westward by sun-fronting Devon,
Where the Land's End flouts the main,
Up fair Bristol's tideful channel,
Winged with ruin came the Dane.
Strong-walled Chester knew their terror,
High-ridged Cambria bowed her head,
Where in pride of devastation
Hasting came with iron tread.
But as some old oak-tree grandly
Stands amid the crashing wood,
Rooted in the strength of Alfred
Stout old Wessex bravely stood.

101

He who wars with foxes, fox-like
Must devise the needful wile;
On the sea to meet the sea-king
Alfred knew by Vectis'isle.

The Isle of Wight, known to the Romans at an early period from its being a station for the Cornish tin trade. Diodorus, v. 22.


Sixty-oared he made his galleys,
England's navy in the germ,
And the sea-king's wingèd pinnace
With unwonted swift alarm
Fled from Vectis. England now
Breathed with full lungs free from fear;
Nor again in face of Alfred
Might the plundering Dane appear.
Eastward where old Thames majestic
Laves the fort of stout King Lud,
Westward where the bluff-faced granite
Mocks old Ocean's fretful flood,
Alfred looked: and all around him,
Once a field of wasteful strife,

102

Saw the land redeemed from wildness
By the labour of his life;
Saw, and thanked his God; then laid him
Down to sleep, and down to die,
Finished with the earthly, ready
For new launch of life on high.
 

The golden dragon was the ancient banner of Wessex. —Pauli, Life of Alfred, p. 51.

Guthorm, the Danish king, actually embraced Christianity. —Ibid., p. 182.