My apologies for not posting anything lately as I have been tied up with some house projects as well as writing a fairly lengthy paper for a class that I’m currently taking. However, as I was doing some research for my paper, I stumbled across an interesting piece of knowledge that I did not know before: that G.K. Chesterton composed poetry. Needless to say, I had to seek out some of his compositions, and here I share with you one of his compositions.
A Marriage Song
Why should we reck of hours that rend While we two ride together? The heavens rent from end to end Would be but windy weather, The strong stars shaken down in spate Would be a shower of spring, And we should list the trump of fate And hear a linnet sing. We break the line with stroke and luck, The arrows run like rain, If you be struck, or I be struck, There's one to strike again. If you befriend, or I befriend, The strength is in us twain, And good things end and bad things end, And you and I remain. Why should we reck of ill or well While we two ride together? The fires that over Sodom fell Would be but sultry weather. Beyond all ends to all men given Our race is far and fell, We shall but wash our feet in heaven, And warm our hands in hell. Battles unborn and vast shall view Our faltered standards stream, New friends shall come and frenzies new. New troubles toil and teem; New friends shall pass and still renew One truth that does not seem, That I am I, and you are you, And Death a morning dream. Why should we reck of scorn or praise While we two ride together? The icy air of godless days Shall be but wintry weather. If hell were highest, if the heaven Were blue with devils blue, I should have guessed that all was even, If I had dreamed of you. Little I reck of empty prides, Of creeds more cold than clay; To nobler ends and longer rides, My lady rides to-day. To swing our swords and take our sides In that all-ending fray When stars fall down and darkness hides, When God shall turn to bay. Why should we reck of grin and groan While we two ride together? The triple thunders of the throne Would be but stormy weather. For us the last great fight shall roar, Upon the ultimate plains, And we shall turn and tell once more Our love in English lanes.