And a raid was driven athwart the raid,The sky reddened and the smoke swayed, And the tall grey horse went by.
The gates of the great river Were breached as with a barge,The walls sank crowded, say the scribes,And high towers populous with tribes Seemed leaning from the charge.
Smoke like rebellious heavens rolled Curled over coloured flames,Mirrored in monstrous purple dreams, In the mighty pools of Thames.
Loud was the war on London wall, And loud in London gates,And loud the sea-kings in the cloud,Broke through their dreaming gods, and loud Cried on their dreadful Fates.
And all the while on White Horse Hill, The horse lay long and wan,The turf crawled and the fungus crept,And the little sorrel, while all men slept, Unwrought the work of man.
With velvet finger, velvet foot, The fierce soft mosses then
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