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Did not once the Jewish captain stay the sun upon the hill,

And, the while he slew the foemen, bid the silver

moon stand still?

So, no doubt, could gracious Canute, if it were his sacred will."

Might I stay the sun above us, good Sir Bishop? Canute cried;

"Could I bid the silver moon to pause upon her heavenly ride?

If the moon obeys my orders, sure I can command

the tide.

"Will the advancing waves obey me, bishop, if I make the sign?

Said the bishop, bowing lowly, "Land and sea, my lord, are thine."

Canute turned towards the ocean- "Back!" he

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said, thou foaming brine.

From the sacred shore I stand on, I command thee to retreat;

Venture not, thou stormy rebel, to approach thy master's seat:

Ocean, be thou still! I bid thee come not nearer to my feet!

But the sullen ocean answered with a louder, deeper

roar,

And the rapid waves drew nearer, falling sounding on the shore ;

Back the keeper and the bishop, back the king and

courtiers bore.

And he sternly bade them never more to kneel to human clay,

But alone to praise and worship That which earth and seas obey:

And his golden crown of empire never wore he from

that day.

King Canute is dead and gone: parasites exist alway.

LADY GODIVA, A.D. 1057

BY LORD TENNYSON

I waited for the train at Coventry ;

I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge,
To watch the three tall spires; and there I shaped
The city's ancient legend into this :-

Not only we, the latest seed of Time,
New men, that in the flying of a wheel

Cry down the past, not only we, that prate

Of rights and wrongs, have loved the people well,
And loathed to see them overtax'd; but she
Did more, and underwent, and overcame,
The woman of a thousand summers back,
Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruled
In Coventry: for when he laid a tax

Upon his town, and all the mothers brought
Their children, clamouring, " If we pay, we starve."
She sought her lord, and found him, where he strode
About the hall, among his dogs, alone,

His beard a foot before him, and his hair

A yard behind. She told him of their tears,
And pray'd him, "If they pay this tax, they starve.”
Whereat he stared, replying, half-amazed,
"You would not let your little finger ache

For such as these? ". -"But I would die," said she.
He laugh'd, and swore by Peter and by Paul :
Then fillip'd at the diamond in her ear;

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O ay, ay, ay, you talk!"

"Alas!

she said,

"But prove me what it is I would not do." And from a heart as rough as Esau's hand,

He answer'd,
And I repeal it

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Ride you naked thro' the town,
; and nodding, as in scorn,
He parted, with great strides among his dogs.

So left alone, the passions of her mind,
As winds from all the compass shift and blow,
Made war upon each other for an hour,

Till pity won.

She sent a herald forth,

And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet, all
The hard condition; but that she would loose
The people therefore, as they loved her well,
From then till noon no foot should pace the street,
No eye look down, she passing; but that all
Should keep within, door shut, and window barr'd.
Then fled she to her inmost bower, and there
Unclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt,

The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breath
She linger'd, looking like a summer moon
Half-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her head,
And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee;
Unclad herself in haste; adown the stair
Stole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam, slid
From pillar unto pillar, until she reach'd

The gateway; there she found her palfrey trapt
In purple blazon'd with armorial gold.

Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity: The deep air listen'd round her as she rode, And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear. The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the spout Had cunning eyes to see; the barking cur Made her cheek flame: her palfrey's footfall shot Light horrors thro' her pulses: the blind walls Were full of chinks and holes; and overhead Fantastic gables, crowding, stared: but she Not less thro' all bore up, till, last, she saw The white-flower'd elder-thicket from the field Gleam thro' the Gothic archway in the wall.

Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity: And one low churl, compact of thankless earth,

The fatal byword of all years to come,
Boring a little auger-hole in fear,

Peep'd-but his eyes, before they had their will,
Were shrivell'd into darkness in his head,

And dropt before him. So the Powers, who wait
On noble deeds, cancell'd a sense misused;

And she, that knew not, pass'd; and all at once, With twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless

noon

Was clash'd and hammered from a hundred towers, One after one but even then she gain'd

Her bower; whence reissuing, robed and crown'd, To meet her lord, she took the tax away,

And built herself an everlasting name.

NORMAN PERIOD

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR (1066-1087)

A NORMAN PROVERB.

To rise at five and dine at nine,

To sup at five to bed at nine,

Makes a man live to ninety-nine.

E BATTLE OF HASTINGS, October 14, 1066

BY SYDNEY HODGES

UP sprang the sun in glory,

Across the burning sky;

And straight the broad bright world awoke
Beneath his regnant eye.

And fast the mists of morning
Before his steps were driven,
As flashing far, his golden wheels
Rolled up the hill of heaven.

And when the clouds had risen
From stream, and wold, and wood,
Far glittering in the light of day,
The two great armies stood.

Beneath the Royal banner,
The London Burghers stand;
And closely round are pressing,

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