CHALK AND FLINT

Comes there now a mighty rally

From the weald and from the coast,

Down from cliff and up from valley,

Spirits of an ancient host;

Castle gray and village mellow,

Coastguard's track and shepherd's fold,

Crumbling church and cracked martello

Echo to this chant of old—

Chant of knight and chant of bowman:

Kent and Sussex feared no foeman

In the valiant days of old!

Screaming gull and lark a-singing,

Bubbling brook and booming sea,

Church and cattle bells a-ringing

Swell the ghostly melody;

"Chalk and flint, Sirs, lie beneath ye,

Mingling with our dust below!

Chalk and flint, Sirs, they bequeath ye

This our chant of long ago!"

Chant of knight and chant of bowman,

Chant of squire and chant of yeoman:

Kent and Sussex feared no foeman

In the days of long ago!

Hills that heed not Time or weather,

Sussex down and Kentish lane,

Roads that wind through marsh and heather

Feel the mail-shod feet again;

Chalk and flint their dead are giving—

Spectres grim and spectres bold—

Marching on to cheer the living

With their battle-chant of old—

Chant of knight and chant of bowman,

Chant of squire and chant of yeoman:

Witness Norman! Witness Roman!

Kent and Sussex feared no foeman

In the valiant days of old!

Reprinted by special permission of London "Punch"