The Gold I gather Comes into England Out of deep Water . Like a shining Fish Then it descends Into deep Water . It is not given For goods or gear , But for The Thing . The Gold I gather A King covets For an ill use . The Gold I gather Is drawn up Out of deep Water . Like a shining Fish Then it descends Into deep Water . It is not given For goods or gear , But for The Thing . A CENTURION OF THE THIRTIETH Cities and Thrones and Powers Stand in Time 's eye , Almost as long as flowers , Which daily die . But , as new buds put forth To glad new men , Out of the spent and unconsidered Earth , The Cities rise again . This season 's Daffodil , She never hears , What change , what chance , what chill , Cut down last year 's : But with bold countenance , And knowledge small , Esteems her seven days ' continuance To be perpetual . So Time that is o'er-kind , To all that be , Ordains us e ` en as blind , As bold as she : That in our very death , And burial sure , Shadow to shadow , well persuaded , saith , ` See how our works endure ! ' A Centurion of the Thirtieth Dan had come to grief over his Latin , and was kept in ; so Una went alone to Far Wood . Dan 's big catapult and the lead bullets that Hobden had made for him were hidden in an old hollow beech-stub on the west of the wood . They had named the place out of the verse in Lays of Ancient Rome : From lordly Volaterrae , Where scowls the far-famed hold Piled by the hands of giants For Godlike Kings of old . They were the ` Godlike Kings ' , and when old Hobden piled some comfortable brushwood between the big wooden knees of Volaterrae , they called him ` Hands of Giants ' . Una slipped through their private gap in the fence , and sat still awhile , scowling as scowlily and lordlily as she knew how ; for Volaterrae is an important watch-tower that juts out of Far Wood just as Far Wood juts out of the hillside . Pook 's Hill lay below her and all the turns of the brook as it wanders out of the Willingford Woods , between hop-gardens , to old Hobden 's cottage at the Forge . The Sou ' - West wind -LRB- there is always a wind by Volaterrae -RRB- blew from the bare ridge where Cherry Clack Windmill stands . Now wind prowling through woods sounds like exciting things going to happen , and that is why on blowy days you stand up in Volaterrae and shout bits of the Lays to suit its noises . Una took Dan 's catapult from its secret place , and made ready to meet Lars Porsena 's army stealing through the wind-whitened aspens by the brook .
A gust boomed up the valley , and XXXXX chanted sorrowfully : ` Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain : Astur hath stormed Janiculum , And the stout guards are slain . '
CENTURION Hill Porsena Rome THIRTIETH Time Una Woods scowlily stealing