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“They shall not come in war-ships, They shall not waste with brands, But books be all their eating, And ink be on their hands. Not with the humour of hunters, Or savage skill in war, But ordering all things with dead words, Strings shall they make of beasts and birds, And wheels of wind and star. They shall come mild as a monkish clerk, With many a scroll and pen, And backward shall ye wonder and gaze, Desiring one of Alfred’s days, When pagans still were men.” — G.K. Chesterton
They shall not come in war-ships,
They shall not waste with brands,
But books be all their eating,
And ink be on their hands.
Not with the humour of hunters,
Or savage skill in war,
But ordering all things with dead words,
Strings shall they make of beasts and birds,
And wheels of wind and star.
They shall come mild as a monkish clerk,
With many a scroll and pen,
And backward shall ye wonder and gaze,
Desiring one of Alfred’s days,
When pagans still were men.