And eastward straight from wild Blackheath the warlike errand went,
And roused, in many an ancient hall, the gallant squires of Kent;
Southward from Surrey’s pleasant hills flew those bright couriers forth;
High on bleak Hampstead’s swarthy moor they started for the north;
And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still:
All night, from town to town, they sprang; they sprang from hill to hill:
Till the proud peak unfurled the flag o’er Darwins rocky dales;
Till, like volcanoes, flared to heaven the stormy hills of Wales;
Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern’s lonely Height;
Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin’s crest of light;