Even then we have dangers

From meddlesome strangers

Who spy on our business and are not content

To take a smooth answer,

Except with a handspike

And they say they are murdered by poor honest men!

To be drowned or be shot

Is our natural lot,

Why should we, moreover, be hanged in the end-
After all our great pains

For to dangle in chains,

As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?

THE CONVERSION OF ST. WILFRID

EDDI'S SERVICE

Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid

In the chapel at Manhood End, Ordered a midnight service

For such as cared to attend.

But the Saxons were keeping Christmas, And the night was stormy as well. Nobody came to service

Though Eddi rang the bell.

'Wicked weather for walking,'

Said Eddi of Manhood End. 'But I must go on with the service For such as care to attend.'

The altar candles were lighted,-
An old marsh donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,

And stared at the guttering flame.

The storm beat on at the windows,
The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet yoke-weary bullock
Pushed in through the open door.