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HIGH the vanes of Shrewsbury gleam | |
Islanded in Severn stream; | |
The bridges from the steepled crest | |
Cross the water east and west. | |
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The flag of morn in conquerors state | 5 |
Enters at the English gate: | |
The vanquished eve, as night prevails, | |
Bleeds upon the road to Wales. | |
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Ages since the vanquished bled | |
Round my mothers marriage-bed; | 10 |
There the ravens feasted far | |
About the open house of war: | |
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When Severn down to Buildwas ran | |
Coloured with the death of man, | |
Couched upon her brothers grave | 15 |
The Saxon got me on the slave. | |
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The sound of fight is silent long | |
That began the ancient wrong; | |
Long the voice of tears is still | |
That wept of old the endless ill. | 20 |
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In my heart it has not died, | |
The war that sleeps on Severn side; | |
They cease not fighting, east and west, | |
On the marches of my breast. | |
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Here the truceless armies yet | 25 |
Trample, rolled in blood and sweat, | |
They kill and kill and never die; | |
And I think that each is I. | |
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None will part us, none undo | |
The knot that makes one flesh of two, | 30 |
Sick with hatred, sick with pain, | |
StranglingWhen shall we be slain? | |
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When shall I be dead and rid | |
Of the wrong my father did? | |
How long, how long, till spade and hearse | 35 |
Put to sleep my mothers curse? | |
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