Naked and grey the Cotswolds stand <br />Beneath the summer sun, <br />And the stubble fields on either hand <br />Where Sour and Avon run. <br />There is no change in the patient land <br />That has bred us every one. <br /> <br />She should have passed in cloud and fire <br />And saved us from this sin <br />Of war--red war--'twixt child and sire, <br />Household and kith and kin, <br />In the heart of a sleepy Midland shire, <br />With the harvest scarcely in. <br /> <br />But there is no change as we meet at last <br />On the brow-head or the plain, <br />And the raw astonished ranks stand fast <br />To slay or to be slain <br />By the men they knew in the kindly past <br />That shall never come again-- <br /> <br />By the men they met at dance or chase, <br />In the tavern or the hall, <br />At the justice bench and the market place, <br />At the cudgel play or brawl-- <br />Of their own blood and speech and race, <br />Comrades or neighbors all! <br /> <br />More bitter than death this day must prove <br />Whichever way it go, <br />For the brothers of the maids we love <br />Make ready to lay low <br />Their sisters' sweethearts, as we move <br />Against our dearest foe. <br /> <br />Thank Heaven! At last the trumpets peal <br />Before our strength gives way. <br />For King or for the Commonweal-- <br />No matter which they say, <br />The first dry rattle of new-drawn steel <br />Changes the world today!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/edgehill-fight/
