My readers are directed to the excellent post on Wulf Ingesunnu's blog http://inglinga.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/the-foxs-prophecy.html
I am posting here the prophecy in full to complement Wulf's article. This truly is a prophecy that has and is coming true today 145 years after it was penned by D.W. Nash. Apart from it being a prophecy of England's doom it is also a message of hope and it is important to stress this. England or the English in some form or another will survive and flourish again just as after Ragnarok some of the Aesir will survive and recover the Golden Tablets and the Hammer of Thor. Man will be reborn along with the earth and the Sun Herself and he will once more walk in peaceful communion with the Gods.
Tom Hill was in the saddleOne bright November morn,The echoing glades of Guiting WoodWhere ringing with his horn.The diamonds of the hoar-frostWere sparkling in the sun,Upon the falling leaves the dropsWere shining one by one.The hare lay on the fallow,The robin caroled free;The linnet and the yellow finchTwittered from tree to tree.In stately march the sable rookFollowed the clanking plough;Apart their watchful sentinelCawed from the topmost bough.Peeped from her hole the field-mouseAmid the fallen leaves;From twig to twig the spiderHer filmy cable weaves.The wavings of the pine boughsThe squirrel’s from disclosure;And through the purple beech-topsThe whirring pheasant rose.The startled rabbit scutteredAcross the grassy ride;High in mid-air the hovering hawkWheeled round in circles wide.The freshest wind was blowingO’er groves of beech and oak,And through the boughs of larch and pineThe struggling sunbeam broke.The varied tints of autumnStill lingered on the wood,And on the leaves the morning sunPoured out a golden flood.Soft, fleecy clouds were sailingAcross the vault of blue;A fairer hunting morningNo huntsman ever knew.All nature seemed rejoicingThat glorious morn to see;All seemed to breathe a fresher life -Beast, insect, bird, and tree.But sounds and sight of beautyFell dull on eye and ear;The huntsman’s heart was heavyHis brow oppresses with care.High in his stirrups raised he stood,And long he gazed around;And breathlessly and anxiouslyHe listened for a sound.But nought he heard save song of bird,Or jay’s discordant cry;Or when among the tree-topsThe wind went murmuring by.No voice of hound, no sound of horn;The woods around were mute,As though the earth had swallowed upHis comrades-man and brute.The thought, ‘I must essay to findMy hounds at any cost;A huntsman who has lost his houndsIs but a huntsman lost.’The round he turned his horse’s head,And shook his bridle free,When he was struck by an aged foxThat sat beneath a tree.He raised his eyes in glad surprise,That huntsman keen and bold;But there was in that fox’s lookThat made his blood run cold.He raised his hand to touch his horn,And shout a ‘Tally-ho!’But, mastered by that fox’s eye,His lips refused to blow,For he was grim and gaunt of limb,With age all silvered o’er;He might have been an Artic foxEscaped from Greenland’s shore.But age his vigor had not tamed,Not dimm’d his sparkling eye,Which shone with an unearthly fire -A fire could never die.And thus the huntsman he addressed,In tones distinct and clear,Who heard as they who in a dreamThe fairies’ music hear.‘Huntsman,’ he saida sudden thrillThrough all the listener ran,To hear a creature of the woodSpeak like a Christian man ‘Last of my race, to me ‘tis givenThe future to unfold,To speak the words which never yetSpake fox of mortal mould.‘Then print my words upon your heart,And stamp them on your brain,That you to others may impartMy prophecy again.‘Strong life is yours in manhood’s prime,Your cheek with heat is red;Time has not laid his finger yetIn earnest on your head.‘But ere your limbs are bent with age,And ere your locks are grey,The sport that you have loved so wellShall long have passed away.In vain shall generous ColmoreYour hunt consent to keep;In vain the Rendcombe baronetWith gold your stores shall heap.In vain Sir Alexander,And Watson Keen in vain,O’er the pleasant Cotswold hillsThe joyous sport maintain.‘Vain all their efforts: spite of all,Draws nigh the fatal morn,When the last Cotswold fox shall hearThe latest huntsman’s horn.‘Yet think not, huntsman, I rejoiceTo see the end so near;Nor think the sound of horn and houndTo me a sound of fear.‘In my strong youth, which numbers nowFull many a winter back,How scornfully I shook my brushBefore the Berkeley pack.‘How oft from Painswick Hill I’ve seenThe morning mist uncurl,When Harry Airis blew the hornBefore the wrathful Earl.‘How oft I’ve heard the Cotswolds’ cryAs Turner cheered the pack,And laughed to see his baffled houndsHang vainly on my track.‘Then think not that I speak in fear,Or prophesy in hate;Too well I know the doom reservedFor all my tribe by fate.‘Too well I know, by wisdom taughtThe existence of my raceO’er all wide England’s green domainIs bound up with Chase.‘Better in early youth and strengthThe race for life to run,Than poisoned like the noxious rat,Or slain by felon gun.‘Better by wily sleight and turnThe eager hound to foil,Thank slaughtered by each baser churlWho yet shall till the soil.‘For not upon these hills aloneThe doom of sport shall fall;O’er the broad face of England creepsThe shadow on the wall.‘The years roll on: old manors change,Old customs lose their sway;New fashions rule; the grandsire’s garbMoves ridicule to-day.‘The woodlands where my race has bredUnto the axe shall yield;Hedgerow and copse shall cease to shadeThe ever-widening field.‘The manly sports of EnglandShall vanish on by one;The manly blood of EnglandIn weaker veins shall run.‘The furzy down, the moorland heath,The steam plough shall invade;Nor park nor manor shall escape Common, nor forest glade.‘Degenerate sons of manlier siresTo lower joys shall fall;The faithless lore of Germany,The guilded vice of Gaul.‘The sports of their forefathersTo baser tastes shall yield;The vices of the town displaceThe pleasures of the field.‘For swiftly o’er the level shoreThe waves of progress ride;The ancient landmarks one by oneShall sink beneath the tide.‘Time honoured creeds and ancient faith,The Altar and the Crown,Lordship’s hereditary right,Before that tide go down.‘Base churls shall mock the mighty namesWrit on the roll of time;Religion shall be held a jest,And loyalty a crime.‘No word of prayer, no hymn of praiseSound in the village school;The people’s educationUtilitarians rule.‘In England’s ancient pulpitsLay orators shall preachNew creeds, and free religionsSelf made apostles teach.‘The peasants to their daily tasksIn surly silence fall;No kindly hospitalitiesIn farmhouse or in hall.‘Nor harvest feast nor Christmas tideShall farm or manor hold;Science alone can plenty give,The only god is Gold.“The homes where love and peace should dwell.Fierce politics shall vex.And unsexed woman strive to proveHerself the coarser sex.‘Mechanics in their workshopAffairs of State decide;Honour and truth old fashioned words The noisy mobs deride.‘The statesmen that should rule the realmCoarse demagogues displace;The glory of a thousand yearsShall end in foul disgrace.The honour of old England,Cotton shall buy and sell,And hardware manufacturersCry “Peace! lo! All is well.”Trade shall be held the only good,And gain the sole device;The statesman’s maxim shall be peace,And peace at any price.“Her army and her navyBritain shall cast aside;Soldiers and ships are costly things,Defence an empty pride.The German and the MuscoviteShall rule the narrow seas;Old England’s flag shall cease to floatIn triumph on the breezeThe footstep of the invaderThen England’s shore shall know,While homebred traitors give the handTo England’s every foe.‘Disarmed, before the foreigner,The knee shall humbly bend,And yield the treasures that she lackedThe wisdom to defend.‘But not for aye-yet once again,When purged by fire and sword,The land her freedom shall regain,To manlier thoughts restored.“Taught wisdom by disaster,England shall learn to knowThat trade is not the only gainHeaven gives to man below.‘The greed for gold departed,The golden calf cast down,Old England’s sons again shall raiseThe Altar and the Crown.“Rejoicing seas shall welcomeTheir mistress once again;Again the banner of St. GeorgeShall rule upon the main.“The blood of the invaderHer pastures shall manure;His bones unburied on her fieldsFor monuments endure.‘Again in hall and homesteadShall joy and peace be seen,And smiling children raise againThe maypole on the green.‘Again the hospitable boardShall groan with Christmas cheer,And mutual service bind againThe peasant and the peer.“Again the smiling hedgerowShall field from field divide;Again among the woodlandsThe scarlet troop shall ride.’Again it seemed that aged foxMore prophecies would say,When sudden came upon a wind,‘Hark forrard! Gone away!’The listener started from his trance He sat there all alone;That well-known cry had burst the spell,The aged fox was gone.The huntsman turned. He spurred his steed,And to the cry he sped;And, when he thought upon that fox,Said naught, but shook his head.
My readers will note the reference to Germany, 'Gaul' and the 'Muscovite' but this was at a time of great rivalry between the European powers and when Germany had become reunited in the Second Reich (after the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-1871) which lasted until 1918 with the abdication of the Kaiser. However one could also interpret this as the economic domination of Germany and France (Deutschland und Frankreich) through the European Union (a type of Fourth Reich). One must also understand that at this time England was a strongly xtian country, hence the reference to the 'altar' etc.
True to the prophecy we are now living in the base age of the rule of the 'people' or the 'mob'. England's proud statesmen have now become political whores, her defences have been abandoned and no one resists the invader any more. We have seen the destruction of our sacred countryside and this is still happening with the illegal construction of houses (due to alien immigration) on what is supposed to be protected green belt land and the rape of our land through fracking which has the potential to poison our water supplies and cause earthquakes. This is all done in the name of profit, for 'gold' which has become the new 'god'. Despite the clear will of the people North Yorkshire County Council have shown their contempt for 'democracy' and voted to allow fracking near Kirby Misperton. It is hoped that this clear contempt for the people they are supposed to represent will spark widespread civil disobedience and that those who care for and love this land will oppose this rape and pollution of our soil.
Those of us who live in England will be acutely conscious of the negative propaganda being spouted by the British government who have spent millions lying to the public about the supposed negative effects of Britain leaving the European Union. This has been done in cahoots with big business, who are not rooted in the soil and are by no means English. They care nothing for you and me. All they are interested in is money and profit. Gold is their god. Nobody appears to be talking about the most important issue which is at stake here and that is sovereignity: the right to make our own laws, to defend our borders and hopefully to eject the alien who has broken into our land (and those who have foolishly been 'invited').
I very much doubt that the United Kingdom will vote to leave the European Union for the masses are easily fooled and even now despite one illegal war after another they still like stupid cattle believe and trust in their establishment politicians. England and indeed the British Empire was not built with the aid of foreign immigrants but by the blood and sweat of English men but if we are to believe our traitorous politicians and many employers the English cannot survive without the help of the immigrant and claim that the "English don't want work": another lie and a racist one at that! If these said employers were to make the same remarks about black people or any other racial group they would have had a visit from the Thought Police!
My thanks to Wulf, a true English son of the soil for his article which has important implications for those of us living in England in these times.