Malcolm Guite included this passage from “The Ballad of the White Horse” in his anthology of Advent and Christmas poems, Waiting on the Word. King Alfred the Great narrates:
And well may God with the serving-folk
Cast in His dreadful lot;
Is not He too a servant,
And is not He forgot?
For was not God my gardener
And silent like a slave;
That opened oaks on the uplands
Or thicket in graveyard gave?
And was not God my armourer,
All patient and unpaid,
That sealed my skull as a helmet,
And ribs for hauberk made?
Did not a great grey servant
Of all my sires and me,
Build this pavilion of the pines,
And herd the fowls and fill the vines,
And labour and pass and leave no signs
Save mercy and mystery?
For God is a great servant,
And rose before the day,
From some primordial slumber torn;
But all we living later born
Sleep on, and rise after the morn,
And the Lord has gone away.
On things half sprung from sleeping,
All sleeping suns have shone,
They stretch stiff arms, the yawning trees,
The beasts blink upon hands and knees,
Man is awake and does and sees-
But Heaven has done and gone.
For who shall guess the good riddle
Or speak of the Holiest,
Save in faint figures and failing words,
Who loves, yet laughs among the swords,
Labours, and is at rest?
But some see God like Guthrum,
Crowned, with a great beard curled,
But I see God like a good giant,
That, laboring, lifts the world.
-G.K. Chesterton, excerpt from “The Ballad of the White Horse.”
I like to listen to Fr. Guite read poems on his site. You can read and listen here, too: “The Good Riddle.”
Gladsome Lights 
I see you’ve posted about the White Horse before. Today, that finally triggered a memory, and a discovery. I somehow missed knowing about the Uffington White Horse, or had forgotten reading about it. I found this wonderful article about it, filled with details about how it’s maintained.
I started wondering if my custom of ‘stamping’ white horses, going back to childhood, might have a connection. Indeed, it may. The first sentence of the Wiki entry about stamping perfectly describes the process I learned: “Stamping is the act of licking one’s thumb, pressing the wet thumb into the opposite palm, then striking the wet palm with the opposite fist.” The action is meant to bring luck, and many articles note that among the lost-in-time associations that underlie the practice may be the Uffington White Horse. However the practice evolved, I still do it; I can’t help myself.
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I loved this poem, but I had a problem with all the lines about “The Lord has gone away” and so on. Many, at least in the Orthodox community, have experienced the nearness of God somewhat like a reproduction on a card that I had for a long time showing three girls, one looking to be 12, the middle one 8, and the youngest 3 or so. An angel hovers near them, but the gaze of the 12-year-old is horizontal, focused out on the world. The gaze of the 8-year-old is turned away, and only the 3-year-old looks on the face of the angel. May we keep the heart of the 3-year-old with the pragmatic knowledge of the 12-year-old so we don’t come to believe morning is over and the Lord has moved on. Cathy
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Are you referring to the whole poem, The Ballad of the White Horse, or just this excerpt, when you say you loved it? The lament of King Alfred reminds me of Psalms which start out with lament, “Where are you, Lord??” and end in hope, and praise for God’s faithfulness. He seems to be absent, and our enemies appear to be getting the better of us, but — it’s not over yet!
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Yes, I was just replying to the portion you showed in your post. I have never read the whole poem. Cathy
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Yes, it’s very interesting to think of God as a servant, isn’t it?
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And a very humble one He is.
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Yes. And forgot, by practically everyone.
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