Waes-hael for knight and dame!

They rear’d their lodges in the wilderness, Or built them cells beside the shadowy sea, And there they dwelt with angels, like a dream! So they unroll’d the Volume of the Book And fill’d the fields of the Evangelist With thoughts as sweet …

Thus said the rushing raven, Unto his hungry mate: ‘Ho! gossip! for Bude Haven: There be corpses six or eight. Cawk! cawk! the crew and skipper Are wallowing in the sea:

A good sword and a trusty hand! A merry heart and true! King James’s men shall understand What Cornish lads can do.And have they fix’d the where and when? And shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men

We see them not—we cannot hear The music of their wing— Yet know we that they sojourn near, The Angels of the spring!They glide along this lovely ground When the first violet grows; Their graceful hands have just unbound

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.