And when madness reigns in other words, a voice from a more familiar sanity...
And see you, after rain, the trace
Of mound and ditch and wall?
O that was a Legion's camping-place,
When Caesar sailed from Gaul.
And see you marks that show and fade,
Like shadows on the downs?
O they are the lines the Flint men made,
To guard their wondrous towns!
Trackway and Camp and city lost,
Salt marsh where now is corn;
Old Wars, old Peace, old Arts that cease,
And so was England born!
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
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