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diff --git a/22650-h/22650-h.htm b/22650-h/22650-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f1f1b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/22650-h/22650-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6383 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems, by William Morris + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1 {text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 1em; + clear: both;} + + h2 {text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 2em; + clear: both;} + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 50%;} + .td1 {text-align: left; font-style: italic;} + .td2 {text-align: right;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + font-style: normal; + text-align: right;} + + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .blockquot p {padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + .rgt {position: absolute; left: 70%; text-align: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.iw0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; + font-variant: small-caps; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: .25em 1em; text-align: justify;} + + a:link {text-decoration:none;} + a:visited {text-decoration:none;} + + .poem span.id0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.id2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.id4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .dcap {float: left; clear: left; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + padding:0; + line-height: .8em; font-size: 2.5em;} + + .theend {margin-bottom: 4em; margin-top: 4em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} + + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 14em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 18em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .head1 {text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps;} + .head3 {text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 6em;} + .head5 {margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .head6 {text-align: center; text-indent: -4em;} + .head7 {margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .head8 {margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + + .cpoem30 {width: 31em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem35 {width: 36em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem25 {width: 26em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem22 {width: 23em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem20 {width: 21em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem15 {width: 16em; margin: 0 auto;} + .cpoem27 {width: 28em; margin: 0 auto;} + .center {text-align: center;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems, by +William Morris + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems + +Author: William Morris + +Release Date: September 17, 2007 [EBook #22650] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE *** + + + + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Stephen Blundell and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1><small><small>THE</small></small><br /><br /> + +DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE<br /><br /> + +<small>AND OTHER POEMS</small></h1> + +<p class="center"><b>BY</b></p> + +<h2>WILLIAM MORRIS</h2> + +<p class="head3">Reprinted from the Kelmscott Press Edition<br /> +as revised by the Author</p> + + +<p class="head1">LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.<br /> +<small>39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON<br /> +NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA<br /> +1908</small></p> +<p class="center"><small>All rights reserved</small></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="cpoem25"> +<i>First Edition, <span class="smcap">Bell & Daldy</span>, 1858<br /> +Reprinted, 1875, for <span class="smcap">Ellis & White</span>, and<br /> +Subsequently for <span class="smcap">Reeves & Turner</span><br /> +Kelmscott Press Edition (revised by the Author), 1892<br /> +Transferred to <span class="smcap">Longmans, Green, & Co.</span>, 1896<br /> +New Edition corrected by Kelmscott Press Edition, May 1900<br /> +Reprinted January 1908</i> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Defence of Guenevere</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">King Arthur's Tomb</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Sir Galahad, a Christmas Mystery</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Chapel in Lyoness</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Sir Peter Harpdon's End</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Rapunzel</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Concerning Geffray Teste Noire</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">A Good Knight in Prison</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Old Love</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Gilliflower of Gold</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Shameful Death</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Eve of Crecy</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Judgment of God</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Little Tower</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Sailing of the Sword</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Spell-Bound</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Wind</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Blue Closet</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Tune of Seven Towers</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Golden Wings</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">The Haystack in the Floods</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Two Red Roses across the Moon</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Welland River</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Riding Together</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Father John's War-Song</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Sir Giles' War-Song</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Near Avalon</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Praise of My Lady</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Summer Dawn</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">In Prison</td><td class="td2"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_DEFENCE_OF_GUENEVERE" id="THE_DEFENCE_OF_GUENEVERE"></a>THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem27"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">B</span>UT, knowing now that they would have her speak,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">She threw her wet hair backward from her brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hand close to her mouth touching her cheek,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As though she had had there a shameful blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feeling it shameful to feel ought but shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All through her heart, yet felt her cheek burned so,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She must a little touch it; like one lame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She walked away from Gauwaine, with her head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still lifted up; and on her cheek of flame<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tears dried quick; she stopped at last and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O knights and lords, it seems but little skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To talk of well-known things past now and dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God wot I ought to say, I have done ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pray you all forgiveness heartily!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because you must be right, such great lords; still<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Listen, suppose your time were come to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you were quite alone and very weak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, laid a dying while very mightily<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind was ruffling up the narrow streak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of river through your broad lands running well:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suppose a hush should come, then some one speak:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'One of these cloths is heaven, and one is hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now choose one cloth for ever; which they be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not tell you, you must somehow tell<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of your own strength and mightiness; here, see!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, yea, my lord, and you to ope your eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At foot of your familiar bed to see<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A great God's angel standing, with such dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not known on earth, on his great wings, and hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Held out two ways, light from the inner skies<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Showing him well, and making his commands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem to be God's commands, moreover, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding within his hands the cloths on wands;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And one of these strange choosing cloths was blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wavy and long, and one cut short and red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man could tell the better of the two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">After a shivering half-hour you said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'God help! heaven's colour, the blue;' and he said, 'hell.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps you then would roll upon your bed,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And cry to all good men that loved you well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Ah Christ! if only I had known, known, known;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Launcelot went away, then I could tell,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like wisest man how all things would be, moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roll and hurt myself, and long to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet fear much to die for what was sown.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever may have happened through these years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her voice was low at first, being full of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as it cleared, it grew full loud and shrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Growing a windy shriek in all men's ears,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A ringing in their startled brains, until<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said that Gauwaine lied, then her voice sunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her great eyes began again to fill,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though still she stood right up, and never shrunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spoke on bravely, glorious lady fair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever tears her full lips may have drunk,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She stood, and seemed to think, and wrung her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke out at last with no more trace of shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With passionate twisting of her body there:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It chanced upon a day that Launcelot came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dwell at Arthur's court: at Christmas-time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This happened; when the heralds sung his name,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Son of King Ban of Benwick, seemed to chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along with all the bells that rang that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the white roofs, with little change of rhyme.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christmas and whitened winter passed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over me the April sunshine came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made very awful with black hail-clouds, yea<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the Summer I grew white with flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bowed my head down: Autumn, and the sick<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure knowledge things would never be the same,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">However often Spring might be most thick<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blossoms and buds, smote on me, and I grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Careless of most things, let the clock tick, tick,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To my unhappy pulse, that beat right through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My eager body; while I laughed out loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let my lips curl up at false or true,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seemed cold and shallow without any cloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold my judges, then the cloths were brought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I was dizzied thus, old thoughts would crowd,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Belonging to the time ere I was bought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Arthur's great name and his little love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must I give up for ever then, I thought,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That which I deemed would ever round me move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glorifying all things; for a little word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce ever meant at all, must I now prove<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stone-cold for ever? Pray you, does the Lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will that all folks should be quite happy and good?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love God now a little, if this cord<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Were broken, once for all what striving could<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make me love anything in earth or heaven?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So day by day it grew, as if one should<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slip slowly down some path worn smooth and even,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to a cool sea on a summer day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still in slipping there was some small leaven<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of stretched hands catching small stones by the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until one surely reached the sea at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And felt strange new joy as the worn head lay<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back, with the hair like sea-weed; yea all past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweat of the forehead, dryness of the lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Washed utterly out by the dear waves o'ercast,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the lone sea, far off from any ships!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do I not know now of a day in Spring?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No minute of that wild day ever slips<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From out my memory; I hear thrushes sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wheresoever I may be, straightway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts of it all come up with most fresh sting:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was half mad with beauty on that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went without my ladies all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a quiet garden walled round every way;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was right joyful of that wall of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shut the flowers and trees up with the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trebled all the beauty: to the bone,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea right through to my heart, grown very shy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With weary thoughts, it pierced, and made me glad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exceedingly glad, and I knew verily,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A little thing just then had made me mad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dared not think, as I was wont to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes, upon my beauty; If I had<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Held out my long hand up against the blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, looking on the tenderly darken'd fingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought that by rights one ought to see quite through,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, see you, where the soft still light yet lingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round by the edges; what should I have done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this had joined with yellow spotted singers,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And startling green drawn upward by the sun?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shouting, loosed out, see now! all my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trancedly stood watching the west wind run<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With faintest half-heard breathing sound; why there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lose my head e'en now in doing this;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shortly listen: In that garden fair<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Came Launcelot walking; this is true, the kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherewith we kissed in meeting that spring day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarce dare talk of the remember'd bliss,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When both our mouths went wandering in one way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aching sorely, met among the leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hands being left behind strained far away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never within a yard of my bright sleeves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Launcelot come before: and now, so nigh!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After that day why is it Guenevere grieves?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever happened on through all those years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Being such a lady could I weep these tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this were true? A great queen such as I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Having sinn'd this way, straight her conscience sears;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And afterwards she liveth hatefully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slaying and poisoning, certes never weeps:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gauwaine be friends now, speak me lovingly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do I not see how God's dear pity creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All through your frame, and trembles in your mouth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember in what grave your mother sleeps,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Buried in some place far down in the south,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men are forgetting as I speak to you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By her head sever'd in that awful drouth<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of pity that drew Agravaine's fell blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray your pity! let me not scream out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever after, when the shrill winds blow<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through half your castle-locks! let me not shout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever after in the winter night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you ride out alone! in battle-rout<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let not my rusting tears make your sword light!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! God of mercy, how he turns away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, ever must I dress me to the fight,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So: let God's justice work! Gauwaine, I say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See me hew down your proofs: yea all men know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even as you said how Mellyagraunce one day,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One bitter day in <i>la Fausse Garde</i>, for so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All good knights held it after, saw:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, sirs, by cursed unknightly outrage; though<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You, Gauwaine, held his word without a flaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Mellyagraunce saw blood upon my bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose blood then pray you? is there any law<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To make a queen say why some spots of red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie on her coverlet? or will you say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your hands are white, lady, as when you wed,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where did you bleed? and must I stammer out, Nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I blush indeed, fair lord, only to rend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sleeve up to my shoulder, where there lay<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A knife-point last night: so must I defend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The honour of the Lady Guenevere?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so, fair lords, even if the world should end<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This very day, and you were judges here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instead of God. Did you see Mellyagraunce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Launcelot stood by him? what white fear<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curdled his blood, and how his teeth did dance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His side sink in? as my knight cried and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slayer of unarm'd men, here is a chance!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Setter of traps, I pray you guard your head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By God I am so glad to fight with you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stripper of ladies, that my hand feels lead<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For driving weight; hurrah now! draw and do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all my wounds are moving in my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am getting mad with waiting so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He struck his hands together o'er the beast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who fell down flat, and grovell'd at his feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And groan'd at being slain so young: At least,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My knight said, rise you, sir, who are so fleet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At catching ladies, half-arm'd will I fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My left side all uncovered! then I weet,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up sprang Sir Mellyagraunce with great delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his knave's face; not until just then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did I quite hate him, as I saw my knight<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the lists look to my stake and pen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such a joyous smile, it made me sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From agony beneath my waist-chain, when<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fight began, and to me they drew nigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever Sir Launcelot kept him on the right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And traversed warily, and ever high<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And fast leapt caitiff's sword, until my knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden threw up his sword to his left hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught it, and swung it; that was all the fight,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Except a spout of blood on the hot land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it was hottest summer; and I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wonder'd how the fire, while I should stand,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And burn, against the heat, would quiver so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yards above my head; thus these matters went;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which things were only warnings of the woe<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That fell on me. Yet Mellyagraunce was shent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Mellyagraunce had fought against the Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore, my lords, take heed lest you be blent<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With all this wickedness; say no rash word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against me, being so beautiful; my eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wept all away to grey, may bring some sword<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To drown you in your blood; see my breast rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like waves of purple sea, as here I stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how my arms are moved in wonderful wise,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea also at my full heart's strong command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See through my long throat how the words go up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ripples to my mouth; how in my hand<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shadow lies like wine within a cup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of marvellously colour'd gold; yea now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This little wind is rising, look you up,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And wonder how the light is falling so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within my moving tresses: will you dare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you have looked a little on my brow,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To say this thing is vile? or will you care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For any plausible lies of cunning woof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you can see my face with no lie there<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For ever? am I not a gracious proof:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in your chamber Launcelot was found:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there a good knight then would stand aloof,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When a queen says with gentle queenly sound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O true as steel come now and talk with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love to see your step upon the ground<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unwavering, also well I love to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gracious smile light up your face, and hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wonderful words, that all mean verily<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thing they seem to mean: good friend, so dear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me in everything, come here to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else the hours will pass most dull and drear;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If you come not, I fear this time I might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get thinking over much of times gone by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I was young, and green hope was in sight:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For no man cares now to know why I sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no man comes to sing me pleasant songs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any brings me the sweet flowers that lie<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So thick in the gardens; therefore one so longs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see you, Launcelot; that we may be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like children once again, free from all wrongs<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Just for one night. Did he not come to me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thing could keep true Launcelot away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I said, Come? there was one less than three<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In my quiet room that night, and we were gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till sudden I rose up, weak, pale, and sick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because a bawling broke our dream up, yea<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I looked at Launcelot's face and could not speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he looked helpless too, for a little while;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I remember how I tried to shriek,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And could not, but fell down; from tile to tile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stones they threw up rattled o'er my head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made me dizzier; till within a while<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My maids were all about me, and my head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Launcelot's breast was being soothed away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From its white chattering, until Launcelot said:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By God! I will not tell you more to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judge any way you will: what matters it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know quite well the story of that fray,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How Launcelot still'd their bawling, the mad fit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That caught up Gauwaine: all, all, verily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But just that which would save me; these things flit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever may have happen'd these long years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All I have said is truth, by Christ's dear tears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She would not speak another word, but stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd sideways; listening, like a man who hears<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His brother's trumpet sounding through the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his foes' lances. She lean'd eagerly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave a slight spring sometimes, as she could<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At last hear something really; joyfully<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her cheek grew crimson, as the headlong speed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the roan charger drew all men to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight who came was Launcelot at good need.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<h2><big>KING ARTHUR'S TOMB</big></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> +<h2>KING ARTHUR'S TOMB</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem30"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">H</span>OT August noon: already on that day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ay and by night, till whether good or bad<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was, he knew not, though he knew perchance<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he was Launcelot, the bravest knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all who since the world was, have borne lance,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or swung their swords in wrong cause or in right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, he knew nothing now, except that where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Glastonbury gilded towers shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lady dwelt, whose name was Guenevere;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This he knew also; that some fingers twine,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not only in a man's hair, even his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Making him good or bad I mean,) but in his life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skies, earth, men's looks and deeds, all that has part,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not being ourselves, in that half-sleep, half-strife,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">(Strange sleep, strange strife,) that men call living; so<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was Launcelot most glad when the moon rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because it brought new memories of her. "Lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the trees a large moon, the wind lows<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not loud, but as a cow begins to low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wishing for strength to make the herdsman hear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ripe corn gathereth dew; yea, long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the old garden life, my Guenevere<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loved to sit still among the flowers, till night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had quite come on, hair loosen'd, for she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling like heaven, that its fairness might<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Draw up the wind sooner to cool her head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now while I ride how quick the moon gets small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As it did then: I tell myself a tale<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<span class="i0">That will not last beyond the whitewashed wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughts of some joust must help me through the vale,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Keep this till after: How Sir Gareth ran<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A good course that day under my Queen's eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how she sway'd laughing at Dinadan.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No. Back again, the other thoughts will rise,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet I think so fast 'twill end right soon:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Verily then I think, that Guenevere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made sad by dew and wind, and tree-barred moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did love me more than ever, was more dear<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To me than ever, she would let me lie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss her feet, or, if I sat behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would drop her hand and arm most tenderly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And touch my mouth. And she would let me wind<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her hair around my neck, so that it fell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon my red robe, strange in the twilight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many unnamed colours, till the bell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of her mouth on my cheek sent a delight<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through all my ways of being; like the stroke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherewith God threw all men upon the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he took Enoch, and when Enoch woke<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a changed body in the happy place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once, I remember, as I sat beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She turn'd a little, and laid back her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slept upon my breast; I almost died<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In those night-watches with my love and dread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There lily-like she bow'd her head and slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I breathed low, and did not dare to move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sat and quiver'd inwardly, thoughts crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And frighten'd me with pulses of my Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stars shone out above the doubtful green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of her bodice, in the green sky overhead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale in the green sky were the stars I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because the moon shone like a star she shed<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When she dwelt up in heaven a while ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ruled all things but God: the night went on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind grew cold, and the white moon grew low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One hand had fallen down, and now lay on<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My cold stiff palm; there were no colours then<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For near an hour, and I fell asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spite of all my striving, even when<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I held her whose name-letters make me leap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I did not sleep long, feeling that in sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I did some loved one wrong, so that the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had only just arisen from the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still land of colours, when before me one<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stood whom I knew, but scarcely dared to touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She seemed to have changed so in the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moreover she held scarlet lilies, such<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As Maiden Margaret bears upon the light<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of the great church walls, natheless did I walk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the fresh wet woods, and the wheat that morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touching her hair and hand and mouth, and talk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of love we held, nigh hid among the corn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back to the palace, ere the sun grew high,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We went, and in a cool green room all day<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I gazed upon the arras giddily,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the wind set the silken kings a-sway.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I could not hold her hand, or see her face;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For which may God forgive me! but I think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Howsoever, that she was not in that place.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These memories Launcelot was quick to drink;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when these fell, some paces past the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There rose yet others, but they wearied more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tasted not so sweet; they did not fall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So soon, but vaguely wrenched his strained heart sore<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In shadowy slipping from his grasp: these gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A longing followed; if he might but touch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Guenevere at once! Still night, the lone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grey horse's head before him vex'd him much,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In steady nodding over the grey road:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still night, and night, and night, and emptied heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of any stories; what a dismal load<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Time grew at last, yea, when the night did part,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And let the sun flame over all, still there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The horse's grey ears turn'd this way and that,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still he watch'd them twitching in the glare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the morning sun, behind them still he sat,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quite wearied out with all the wretched night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until about the dustiest of the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the last down's brow he drew his rein in sight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the Glastonbury roofs that choke the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he was now quite giddy as before,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she slept by him, tired out, and her hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was mingled with the rushes on the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he, being tired too, was scarce aware<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of her presence; yet as he sat and gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A shiver ran throughout him, and his breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came slower, he seem'd suddenly amazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As though he had not heard of Arthur's death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This for a moment only, presently<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He rode on giddy still, until he reach'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A place of apple-trees, by the thorn-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherefrom St. Joseph in the days past preached.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dazed there he laid his head upon a tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not knowing it was Arthur's, at which sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of her maidens told her, 'He is come,'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she went forth to meet him; yet a blight<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had settled on her, all her robes were black,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a long white veil only; she went slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one walks to be slain, her eyes did lack<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Half her old glory, yea, alas! the glow<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had left her face and hands; this was because<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As she lay last night on her purple bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wishing for morning, grudging every pause<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the palace clocks, until that Launcelot's head<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Should lie on her breast, with all her golden hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each side: when suddenly the thing grew drear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In morning twilight, when the grey downs bare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grew into lumps of sin to Guenevere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At first she said no word, but lay quite still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only her mouth was open, and her eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed wretchedly about from hill to hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As though she asked, not with so much surprise<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As tired disgust, what made them stand up there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So cold and grey. After, a spasm took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her face, and all her frame, she caught her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All her hair, in both hands, terribly she shook,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rose till she was sitting in the bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set her teeth hard, and shut her eyes and seem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though she would have torn it from her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Natheless she dropp'd it, lay down, as she deem'd<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It matter'd not whatever she might do:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Lord Christ! pity on her ghastly face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those dismal hours while the cloudless blue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drew the sun higher: He did give her grace;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because at last she rose up from her bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put her raiment on, and knelt before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blessed rood, and with her dry lips said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Muttering the words against the marble floor:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Unless you pardon, what shall I do, Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But go to hell? and there see day by day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foul deed on deed, hear foulest word on word,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ever and ever, such as on the way<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Camelot I heard once from a churl,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That curled me up upon my jennet's neck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bitter shame; how then, Lord, should I curl<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ages and for ages? dost thou reck<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That I am beautiful, Lord, even as you<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And your dear mother? why did I forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You were so beautiful, and good, and true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That you loved me so, Guenevere? O yet<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If even I go to hell, I cannot choose<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But love you, Christ, yea, though I cannot keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From loving Launcelot; O Christ! must I lose<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My own heart's love? see, though I cannot weep,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet am I very sorry for my sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Moreover, Christ, I cannot bear that hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am most fain to love you, and to win<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A place in heaven some time: I cannot tell:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Speak to me, Christ! I kiss, kiss, kiss your feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah! now I weep!' The maid said, 'By the tomb<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +<span class="i0">He waiteth for you, lady,' coming fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not knowing what woe filled up all the room.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So Guenevere rose and went to meet him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He did not hear her coming, as he lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Arthur's head, till some of her long hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brush'd on the new-cut stone: 'Well done! to pray<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Arthur, my dear Lord, the greatest king<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That ever lived.' 'Guenevere! Guenevere!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you not know me, are you gone mad? fling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your arms and hair about me, lest I fear<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You are not Guenevere, but some other thing.'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Pray you forgive me, fair lord Launcelot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am not mad, but I am sick; they cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God's curses, unto such as I am; not<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ever again shall we twine arms and lips.'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Yea, she is mad: thy heavy law, O Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is very tight about her now, and grips<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her poor heart, so that no right word<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can reach her mouth; so, Lord, forgive her now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she not knowing what she does, being mad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kills me in this way; Guenevere, bend low<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss me once! for God's love kiss me! sad<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though your face is, you look much kinder now;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yea once, once for the last time kiss me, lest I die.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Christ! my hot lips are very near his brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Help me to save his soul! Yea, verily,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Across my husband's head, fair Launcelot!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair serpent mark'd with V upon the head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This thing we did while yet he was alive,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why not, O twisting knight, now he is dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, shake! shake now and shiver! if you can<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Remember anything for agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray you remember how when the wind ran<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One cool spring evening through fair aspen-tree,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And elm and oak about the palace there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The king came back from battle, and I stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet him, with my ladies, on the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My face made beautiful with my young blood.'<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Will she lie now, Lord God?' 'Remember too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrung heart, how first before the knights there came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A royal bier, hung round with green and blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About it shone great tapers with sick flame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thereupon Lucius, the Emperor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay royal-robed, but stone-cold now and dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not able to hold sword or sceptre more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But not quite grim; because his cloven head<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bore no marks now of Launcelot's bitter sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Being by embalmers deftly solder'd up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So still it seem'd the face of a great lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Being mended as a craftsman mends a cup.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Also the heralds sung rejoicingly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To their long trumpets; Fallen under shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here lieth Lucius, King of Italy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slain by Lord Launcelot in open field.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thereat the people shouted: Launcelot!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And through the spears I saw you drawing nigh,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +<span class="i0">You and Lord Arthur: nay, I saw you not,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But rather Arthur, God would not let die,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I hoped, these many years; he should grow great,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in his great arms still encircle me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissing my face, half blinded with the heat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of king's love for the queen I used to be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Launcelot, Launcelot, why did he take your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he had kissed me in his kingly way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying: This is the knight whom all the land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Calls Arthur's banner, sword, and shield to-day;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cherish him, love. Why did your long lips cleave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In such strange way unto my fingers then?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So eagerly glad to kiss, so loath to leave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When you rose up? Why among helmed men<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Could I always tell you by your long strong arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sway like an angel's in your saddle there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why sicken'd I so often with alarms<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the tilt-yard? Why were you more fair<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Than aspens in the autumn at their best?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why did you fill all lands with your great fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that Breuse even, as he rode, fear'd lest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At turning of the way your shield should flame?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was it nought then, my agony and strife?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When as day passed by day, year after year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I found I could not live a righteous life!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Didst ever think queens held their truth for dear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, but your lips say: Yea, but she was cold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sometimes, always uncertain as the spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I was sad she would be overbold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Longing for kisses. When war-bells did ring,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The back-toll'd bells of noisy Camelot.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Now, Lord God, listen! listen, Guenevere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I am weak just now, I think there's not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A man who dares to say: You hated her,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And left her moaning while you fought your fill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the daisied meadows! lo you her thin hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That on the carven stone can not keep still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because she loves me against God's command,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Has often been quite wet with tear on tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tears Launcelot keeps somewhere, surely not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his own heart, perhaps in Heaven, where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He will not be these ages.' 'Launcelot!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud lips, wrung heart! I say when the bells rang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The noisy back-toll'd bells of Camelot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There were two spots on earth, the thrushes sang<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the lonely gardens where my love was not,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where I was almost weeping; I dared not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weep quite in those days, lest one maid should say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In tittering whispers: Where is Launcelot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To wipe with some kerchief those tears away?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Another answer sharply with brows knit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And warning hand up, scarcely lower though:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You speak too loud, see you, she heareth it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This tigress fair has claws, as I well know,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As Launcelot knows too, the poor knight! well-a-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why met he not with Iseult from the West,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Or better still, Iseult of Brittany?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perchance indeed quite ladyless were best.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, my maids, you loved not overmuch<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Queen Guenevere, uncertain as sunshine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In March; forgive me! for my sin being such,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About my whole life, all my deeds did twine,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Made me quite wicked; as I found out then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think; in the lonely palace where each morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We went, my maids and I, to say prayers when<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sang mass in the chapel on the lawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And every morn I scarce could pray at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For Launcelot's red-golden hair would play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instead of sunlight, on the painted wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mingled with dreams of what the priest did say;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grim curses out of Peter and of Paul;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Judging of strange sins in Leviticus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another sort of writing on the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Scored deep across the painted heads of us.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Christ sitting with the woman at the well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Mary Magdalen repenting there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her dimmed eyes scorch'd and red at sight of hell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So hardly 'scaped, no gold light on her hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if the priest said anything that seemed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To touch upon the sin they said we did,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(This in their teeth) they looked as if they deem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I was spying what thoughts might be hid<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under green-cover'd bosoms, heaving quick<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath quick thoughts; while they grew red with shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gazed down at their feet: while I felt sick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And almost shriek'd if one should call my name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thrushes sang in the lone garden there:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But where you were the birds were scared I trow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clanging of arms about pavilions fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mixed with the knights' laughs; there, as I well know,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rode Launcelot, the king of all the band,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scowling Gauwaine, like the night in day,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And handsome Gareth, with his great white hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Curl'd round the helm-crest, ere he join'd the fray;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And merry Dinadan with sharp dark face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All true knights loved to see; and in the fight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Tristram, and though helmed you could trace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In all his bearing the frank noble knight;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by him Palomydes, helmet off,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He fought, his face brush'd by his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red heavy swinging hair; he fear'd a scoff<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So overmuch, though what true knight would dare<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To mock that face, fretted with useless care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bitter useless striving after love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Palomydes, with much honour bear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beast Glatysaunt upon your shield, above<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your helm that hides the swinging of your hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And think of Iseult, as your sword drives through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much mail and plate: O God, let me be there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little time, as I was long ago!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because stout Gareth lets his spear fall low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gauwaine and Launcelot, and Dinadan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are helm'd and waiting; let the trumpets go!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bend over, ladies, to see all you can!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clench teeth, dames, yea, clasp hands, for Gareth's spear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Throws Kay from out his saddle, like a stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a castle-window when the foe draws near:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Iseult! Sir Dinadan rolleth overthrown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Iseult! again: the pieces of each spear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fly fathoms up, and both the great steeds reel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tristram for Iseult! Iseult! and Guenevere!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ladies' names bite verily like steel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They bite: bite me, Lord God! I shall go mad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or else die kissing him, he is so pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thinks me mad already, O bad! bad!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let me lie down a little while and wail.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'No longer so, rise up, I pray you, love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And slay me really, then we shall be heal'd,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance, in the aftertime by God above.'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Banner of Arthur, with black-bended shield<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sinister-wise across the fair gold ground!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here let me tell you what a knight you are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sword and shield of Arthur! you are found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A crooked sword, I think, that leaves a scar<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the bearer's arm, so be he thinks it straight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twisted Malay's crease beautiful blue-grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poison'd with sweet fruit; as he found too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My husband Arthur, on some bitter day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O sickle cutting hemlock the day long!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the husbandman across his shoulder hangs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, going homeward about evensong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dies the next morning, struck through by the fangs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Banner, and sword, and shield, you dare not die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lest you meet Arthur in the other world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, knowing who you are, he pass you by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Taking short turns that he may watch you curl'd,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Body and face and limbs in agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lest he weep presently and go away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying: I loved him once, with a sad sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now I have slain him, Lord, let me go too, I pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">[Launcelot <i>falls</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! alas! I know not what to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I run fast it is perchance that I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May fall and stun myself, much better so,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never, never again! not even when I die.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Launcelot</span>, <i>on awaking</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'I stretch'd my hands towards her and fell down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How long I lay in swoon I cannot tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My head and hands were bleeding from the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I rose up, also I heard a bell.'<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>SIR GALAHAD, A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY</big></h2> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> +<h2>SIR GALAHAD, A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY</h2> + + + +<div class="cpoem30"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">I</span>T is the longest night in all the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Near on the day when the Lord Christ was born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six hours ago I came and sat down here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ponder'd sadly, wearied and forlorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The winter wind that pass'd the chapel door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sang out a moody tune, that went right well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mine own thoughts: I look'd down on the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between my feet, until I heard a bell<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sound a long way off through the forest deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And toll on steadily; a drowsiness<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Came on me, so that I fell half asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I sat there not moving: less and less<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw the melted snow that hung in beads<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon my steel-shoes; less and less I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the tiles the bunches of small weeds:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heartless and stupid, with no touch of awe<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon me, half-shut eyes upon the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thought: O Galahad! the days go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stop and cast up now that which you have found,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So sorely you have wrought and painfully.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Night after night your horse treads down alone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sere damp fern, night after night you sit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding the bridle like a man of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dismal, unfriended: what thing comes of it?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what if Palomydes also ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And over many a mountain and bare heath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follow the questing beast with none beside?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is he not able still to hold his breath<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With thoughts of Iseult? doth he not grow pale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With weary striving, to seem best of all<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To her, 'as she is best,' he saith? to fail<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is nothing to him, he can never fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For unto such a man love-sorrow is<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So dear a thing unto his constant heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That even if he never win one kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or touch from Iseult, it will never part.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he will never know her to be worse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than in his happiest dreams he thinks she is:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good knight, and faithful, you have 'scaped the curse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In wonderful-wise; you have great store of bliss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, what if Father Launcelot ride out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can he not think of Guenevere's arms, round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm and lithe, about his neck, and shout<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till all the place grows joyful with the sound?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when he lists can often see her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And think, 'Next month I kiss you, or next week,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still you think of me': therefore the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grows very pleasant, whatsoever he seek.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But me, who ride alone, some carle shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dead in my arms in the half-melted snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all unkindly with the shifting wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The thaw comes on at Candlemas: I know<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Indeed that they will say: 'This Galahad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If he had lived had been a right good knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! poor chaste body!' but they will be glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not most alone, but all, when in their sight<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That very evening in their scarlet sleeves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gay-dress'd minstrels sing; no maid will talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sitting on my tomb, until the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grown big upon the bushes of the walk,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">East of the Palace-pleasaunce, make it hard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see the minster therefrom: well-a-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the trees by autumn were well bared,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw a damozel with gentle play,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within that very walk say last farewell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her dear knight, just riding out to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Why should I choke to say it?) the Sangreal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And their last kisses sunk into my mind,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, for she stood lean'd forward on his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rather, scarce stood; the back of one dear hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it might well be kiss'd, she held and press'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against his lips; long time they stood there, fann'd<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By gentle gusts of quiet frosty wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Mador de la porte a-going by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my own horsehoofs roused them; they untwined,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And parted like a dream. In this way I,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With sleepy face bent to the chapel floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kept musing half asleep, till suddenly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sharp bell rang from close beside the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I leapt up when something pass'd me by,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shrill ringing going with it, still half blind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I stagger'd after, a great sense of awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At every step kept gathering on my mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thereat I have no marvel, for I saw<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One sitting on the altar as a throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose face no man could say he did not know,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And though the bell still rang, he sat alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With raiment half blood-red, half white as snow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right so I fell upon the floor and knelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not as one kneels in church when mass is said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in a heap, quite nerveless, for I felt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The first time what a thing was perfect dread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But mightily the gentle voice came down:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Rise up, and look and listen, Galahad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good knight of God, for you will see no frown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon my face; I come to make you glad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For that you say that you are all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will be with you always, and fear not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are uncared for, though no maiden moan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above your empty tomb; for Launcelot,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He in good time shall be my servant too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meantime, take note whose sword first made him knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who has loved him alway, yea, and who<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still trusts him alway, though in all men's sight,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is just what you know, O Galahad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This love is happy even as you say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But would you for a little time be glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To make ME sorry long, day after day?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her warm arms round his neck half throttle ME,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hot love-tears burn deep like spots of lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, and the years pass quick: right dismally<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will Launcelot at one time hang his head;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, old and shrivell'd he shall win my love.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poor Palomydes fretting out his soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not always is he able, son, to move<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His love, and do it honour: needs must roll<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The proudest destrier sometimes in the dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then 'tis weary work; he strives beside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem better than he is, so that his trust<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is always on what chances may betide;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so he wears away, my servant, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When all these things are gone, and wretchedly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sits and longs to moan for Iseult, who<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is no care now to Palomydes: see,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O good son Galahad, upon this day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now even, all these things are on your side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But these you fight not for; look up, I say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And see how I can love you, for no pride<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Closes your eyes, no vain lust keeps them down.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See now you have ME always; following<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That holy vision, Galahad, go on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until at last you come to ME to sing<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Heaven always, and to walk around<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The garden where I am.' He ceased, my face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wretched body fell upon the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when I look'd again, the holy place<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was empty; but right so the bell again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came to the chapel-door, there entered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two angels first, in white, without a stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scarlet wings, then, after them, a bed<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four ladies bore, and set it down beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The very altar-step, and while for fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarcely dared to move or draw my breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those holy ladies gently came a-near,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And quite unarm'd me, saying: 'Galahad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rest here awhile and sleep, and take no thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of any other thing than being glad;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hither the Sangreal will be shortly brought,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet must you sleep the while it stayeth here.'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right so they went away, and I, being weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slept long and dream'd of Heaven: the bell comes near,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I doubt it grows to morning. Miserere!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Enter Two Angels in white, with scarlet wings; also, +Four Ladies in gowns of red and green; also an +Angel, bearing in his hands a surcoat of white, +with a red cross.</i></p></div> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">An Angel</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O servant of the high God, Galahad!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rise and be arm'd: the Sangreal is gone forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the great forest, and you must be had<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unto the sea that lieth on the north:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There shall you find the wondrous ship wherein<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The spindles of King Solomon are laid,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And the sword that no man draweth without sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But if he be most pure: and there is stay'd,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hard by, Sir Launcelot, whom you will meet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In some short space upon that ship: first, though,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will come here presently that lady sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sister of Percival, whom you well know,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with her Bors and Percival: stand now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These ladies will to arm you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">First Lady</span>, <i>putting on the hauberk</i>.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Galahad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I may stand so close beneath your brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I, Margaret of Antioch, am glad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Second Lady</span>, <i>girding him with the sword</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That I may stand and touch you with my hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O Galahad, I, Cecily, am glad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Third Lady</span>, <i>buckling on the spurs</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That I may kneel while up above you stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And gaze at me, O holy Galahad,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I, Lucy, am most glad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Fourth Lady</span>, <i>putting on the basnet</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">O gentle knight,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +<span class="i2">That you bow down to us in reverence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are most glad, I, Katherine, with delight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Must needs fall trembling.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Angel</span>, <i>putting on the crossed surcoat</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Galahad, we go hence,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For here, amid the straying of the snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come Percival's sister, Bors, and Percival.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">[<i>The Four Ladies carry out the bed, and all go but</i> Galahad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Galahad.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How still and quiet everything seems now:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They come, too, for I hear the horsehoofs fall.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Enter</i> Sir Bors, Sir Percival, <i>and</i> his Sister.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair friends and gentle lady, God you save!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A many marvels have been here to-night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me what news of Launcelot you have,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And has God's body ever been in sight?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Bors.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, as for seeing that same holy thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As we were riding slowly side by side,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +<span class="i0">An hour ago, we heard a sweet voice sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And through the bare twigs saw a great light glide,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With many-colour'd raiment, but far off;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so pass'd quickly: from the court nought good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor merry Dinadan, that with jape and scoff<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Kept us all merry, in a little wood<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was found all hack'd and dead: Sir Lionel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Gauwaine have come back from the great quest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just merely shamed; and Lauvaine, who loved well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your father Launcelot, at the king's behest<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Went out to seek him, but was almost slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perhaps is dead now; everywhere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knights come foil'd from the great quest, in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In vain they struggle for the vision fair.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>THE CHAPEL IN LYONESS</big></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CHAPEL IN LYONESS</h2> + +<p class="head1">Sir Ozana le cure Hardy. Sir Galahad.<br /> +Sir Bors de Ganys.</p> + +<div class="cpoem25"> +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Ozana.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span>LL day long and every day,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within that Chapel-aisle I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And no man came a-near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Naked to the waist was I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deep within my breast did lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though no man any blood could spy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The truncheon of a spear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No meat did ever pass my lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those days. Alas! the sunlight slips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From off the gilded parclose, dips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And night comes on apace.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My arms lay back behind my head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my raised-up knees was spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A samite cloth of white and red;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rose lay on my face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many a time I tried to shout;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as in dream of battle-rout,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My frozen speech would not well out;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I could not even weep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With inward sigh I see the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fade off the pillars one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart faints when the day is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because I cannot sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes strange thoughts pass through my head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not like a tomb is this my bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet oft I think that I am dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That round my tomb is writ,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ozana of the hardy heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knight of the Table Round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray for his soul, lords, of your part;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A true knight he was found.'<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +<div class="rgt">[<i>He sleeps.</i></div><span class="i0">Ah! me, I cannot fathom it.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Galahad.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All day long and every day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till his madness pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watch'd Ozana as he lay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within the gilded screen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All my singing moved him not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I sung my heart grew hot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the thought of Launcelot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Far away, I ween.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So I went a little space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From out the chapel, bathed my face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the stream that runs apace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the churchyard wall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There I pluck'd a faint wild rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard by where the linden grows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing over silver rows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the lilies tall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I laid the flower across his mouth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sparkling drops seem'd good for drouth;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +<span class="i0">He smiled, turn'd round towards the south.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Held up a golden tress.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The light smote on it from the west;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drew the covering from his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against his heart that hair he prest;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Death him soon will bless.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Bors.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I enter'd by the western door;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw a knight's helm lying there:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I raised my eyes from off the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And caught the gleaming of his hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I stept full softly up to him;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I laid my chin upon his head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felt him smile; my eyes did swim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I was so glad he was not dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard Ozana murmur low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'There comes no sleep nor any love.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Galahad stoop'd and kiss'd his brow:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He shiver'd; I saw his pale lips move.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Ozana.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There comes no sleep nor any love;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah me! I shiver with delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am so weak I cannot move;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God move me to thee, dear, to-night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ help! I have but little wit:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My life went wrong; I see it writ,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Ozana of the hardy heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knight of the Table Round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray for his soul, lords, on your part;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A good knight he was found.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="rgt">[<i>He dies.</i></div><span class="i0">Now I begin to fathom it.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Bors.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Galahad sits dreamily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What strange things may his eyes see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great blue eyes fix'd full on me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his soul, Lord, have mercy.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head6"><span class="smcap">Sir Galahad.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ozana, shall I pray for thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her cheek is laid to thine;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +<span class="i0">No long time hence, also I see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy wasted fingers twine<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the tresses of her hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shineth gloriously,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinly outspread in the clear air<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against the jasper sea.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>SIR PETER HARPDON'S END</big></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> +<h2>SIR PETER HARPDON'S END</h2> + + +<p class="center"><i>In an English Castle in Poictou.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Sir Peter Harpdon, <i>a Gascon knight in the English<br /> +service, and</i> John Curzon, <i>his lieutenant</i>.</p> + +<div class="cpoem30"> +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">O</span>F those three prisoners, that before you came<br /></span> +<span class="id0">We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two are good masons; we have tools enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you have skill to set them working.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">So:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What are their names?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Why, Jacques Aquadent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Peter Plombiere, but,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">What colour'd hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has Peter now? has Jacques got bow legs?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, sir, you jest: what matters Jacques' hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Peter's legs to us?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O! John, John, John!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hang Peter up and Jacques; They're no good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shall not build, man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon</span> (<i>going</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Shall I call the guard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">[<i>Muttering as he goes.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have I done that he should jape at me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why not build? the walls are weak enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we've two masons and a heap of tools.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">[<i>Goes, still muttering.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To think a man should have a lump like that<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For his lieutenant! I must call him back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or else, as surely as St. George is dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'll hang our friends the masons: here, John! John!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At your good service, sir.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Come now, and talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This weighty matter out; there, we've no stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mend our walls with, neither brick nor stone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a quarry, sir, some ten miles off.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We are not strong enough to send ten men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten miles to fetch us stone enough to build.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In three hours' time they would be taken or slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cursed Frenchmen ride abroad so thick.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But we can send some villaynes to get stone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! John, that we cannot bring them back,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +<span class="i0">They would go off to Clisson or Sanxere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell them we were weak in walls and men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then down go we; for, look you, times are changed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now no longer does the country shake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sound of English names; our captains fade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From off our muster-rolls. At Lusac bridge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I daresay you may even yet see the hole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Chandos beat in dying; far in Spain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pembroke is prisoner; Phelton prisoner here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Manny lies buried in the Charterhouse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oliver Clisson turn'd these years agone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Captal died in prison; and, over all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Edward the prince lies underneath the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Edward the king is dead, at Westminster<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carvers smooth the curls of his long beard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything goes to rack—eh! and we too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Curzon, listen; if they come, these French,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom have I got to lean on here, but you?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man can die but once, will you die then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your brave sword in your hand, thoughts in your heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the deeds we have done here in France—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet may do? So God will have your soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoever has your body.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Why, sir, I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will fight till the last moment, until then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will do whate'er you tell me. Now I see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must e'en leave the walls; well, well, perhaps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're stronger than I think for; pity, though!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some few tons of stone, if Guesclin comes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell, John, pray you watch the Gascons well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I doubt them.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="rgt">[<i>Goes.</i></div><span class="i6">Truly, sir, I will watch well.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell, good lump! and yet, when all is said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis a good lump. Why then, if Guesclin comes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some dozen stones from his petrariae,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, under shelter of his crossbows, just<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An hour's steady work with pickaxes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a great noise—some dozen swords and glaives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-playing on my basnet all at once,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And little more cross purposes on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now this is hard: a month ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a few minutes' talk had set things right<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt me and Alice; if she had a doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, may Heaven bless her! I scarce think she had,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas but their hammer, hammer in her ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of how Sir Peter fail'd at Lusac Bridge:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how he was grown moody of late days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how Sir Lambert, think now! his dear friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sweet, dear cousin, could not but confess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Peter's talk tended towards the French,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which he, for instance Lambert, was glad of,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being, Lambert, you see, on the French side.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I could but have seen her on that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, when they sent me off!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">I like to think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although it hurts me, makes my head twist, what,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I had seen her, what I should have said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What she, my darling, would have said and done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thus perchance.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To find her sitting there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the window-seat, not looking well at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crying perhaps, and I say quietly:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alice! she looks up, chokes a sob, looks grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changes from pale to red, but, ere she speaks,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Straightway I kneel down there on both my knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And say: O lady, have I sinn'd, your knight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That still you ever let me walk alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the rose garden, that you sing no songs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I am by, that ever in the dance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You quietly walk away when I come near?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that I have you, will you go, think you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ere she could answer I would speak again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still kneeling there.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">What! they have frighted you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By hanging burs, and clumsily carven puppets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round my good name; but afterwards, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will say what this means; this moment, see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do I kneel here, and can you doubt me? Yea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she would put her hands upon my face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, that is best, yea feel, love, am I changed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she would say: Good knight, come, kiss my lips!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And afterwards as I sat there would say:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Please a poor silly girl by telling me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What all those things they talk of really were,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For it is true you did not help Chandos,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And true, poor love! you could not come to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I was in such peril.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I should say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am like Balen, all things turn to blame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I did not come to you? At Bergerath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The constable had held us close shut up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If from the barriers I had made three steps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have been but slain; at Lusac, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We struggled in a marish half the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And came too late at last: you know, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How heavy men and horses are all arm'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that Sir Lambert said was pure, unmix'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite groundless lies; as you can think, sweet love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She, holding tight my hand as we sat there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Started a little at Sir Lambert's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But otherwise she listen'd scarce at all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what I said. Then with moist, weeping eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quivering lips, that scarcely let her speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said: I love you.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Other words were few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The remnant of that hour; her hand smooth'd down<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +<span class="i0">My foolish head; she kiss'd me all about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My face, and through the tangles of my beard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her little fingers crept!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O God, my Alice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not this good way: my lord but sent and said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lambert's sayings were taken at their worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore that day I was to start, and keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This hold against the French; and I am here:<br /></span> +<span class="i12">[<i>Looks out of the window.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sprawling lonely garde with rotten walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no one to bring aid if Guesclin comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or any other.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">There's a pennon now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But not the constable's: whose arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wonder, does it bear? Three golden rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a red ground; my cousin's by the rood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, I should like to kill him, certainly,<br /></span> +<div class="rgt">[<i>A trumpet sounds.</i></div><span class="i0">But to be kill'd by him:<br /></span> +<span class="i10">That's for a herald;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I doubt this does not mean assaulting yet.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><i>Enter</i> John Curzon.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What says the herald of our cousin, sir?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So please you, sir, concerning your estate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has good will to talk with you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">Outside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll talk with him, close by the gate St. Ives.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is he unarm'd?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Yea, sir, in a long gown.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then bid them bring me hither my furr'd gown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the long sleeves, and under it I'll wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Lambert's leave, a secret coat of mail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And will you lend me, John, your little axe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mean the one with Paul wrought on the blade?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will carry it inside my sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good to be ready always; you, John, go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid them set up many suits of arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bows, archgays, lances, in the base-court, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yourself, from the south postern setting out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With twenty men, be ready to break through<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Their unguarded rear when I cry out, St. George!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How, sir! will you attack him unawares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slay him unarm'd?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Trust me, John, I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reason why he comes here with sleeved gown,<br /></span> +<div class="rgt">[<i>They go.</i></div><span class="i0">Fit to hide axes up. So, let us go.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p style="margin-top: 4em;"><i>Outside the castle by the great gate;</i> Sir Lambert <i>and</i> +Sir Peter <i>seated; guards attending each, the rest +of</i> Sir Lambert's <i>men drawn up about a furlong +off.</i></p></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span>ND if I choose to take the losing side<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Still, does it hurt you?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">O! no hurt to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see you sneering, Why take trouble then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing you love me not? Look you, our house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Which, taken altogether, I love much)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had better be upon the right side now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, once for all, it wishes to bear rule<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As such a house should: cousin, you're too wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feed your hope up fat, that this fair France<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ever draw two ways again; this side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The French, wrong-headed, all a-jar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With envious longings; and the other side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The order'd English, orderly led on<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +<span class="i0">By those two Edwards through all wrong and right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And muddling right and wrong to a thick broth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that long stick, their strength. This is all changed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The true French win, on either side you have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cool-headed men, good at a tilting match,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And good at setting battles in array,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And good at squeezing taxes at due time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore by nature we French being here<br /></span> +<div class="rgt">[<i>Sir Peter laughs aloud.</i></div><span class="i0">Upon our own big land:<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Well, Peter! well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What makes you laugh?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Hearing you sweat to prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this I know so well; but you have read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The siege of Troy?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O! yea, I know it well.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There! they were wrong, as wrong as men could be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, as I think, they found it such delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see fair Helen going through their town;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, any little common thing she did<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +<span class="i0">(As stooping to pick a flower) seem'd so strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So new in its great beauty, that they said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here we will keep her living in this town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all burns up together. And so, fought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a mad whirl of knowing they were wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, they fought well, and ever, like a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hangs legs off the ground by both his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over some great height, did they struggle sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite sure to slip at last; wherefore, take note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How almost all men, reading that sad siege,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold for the Trojans; as I did at least,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought Hector the best knight a long way:<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should I not do this thing that I think;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For even when I come to count the gains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have them my side: men will talk, you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(We talk of Hector, dead so long agone,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I am dead, of how this Peter clung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what he thought the right; of how he died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance, at last, doing some desperate deed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few men would care do now, and this is gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me, as ease and money is to you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moreover, too, I like the straining game<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of striving well to hold up things that fall;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +<span class="i0">So one becomes great. See you! in good times<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All men live well together, and you, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live dull and happy: happy? not so quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suppose sharp thoughts begin to burn you up?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why then, but just to fight as I do now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A halter round my neck, would be great bliss.</span> +<div class="rgt">[<i>Aside.</i></div><span class="i0">O! I am well off.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Talk, and talk, and talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know this man has come to murder me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I talk still.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">If your side were right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You might be, though you lost; but if I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'You are a traitor, being, as you are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born Frenchman.' What are Edwards unto you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Richards?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nay, hold there, my Lambert, hold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear your zeal should bring you to some harm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't call me traitor.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Furthermore, my knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men call you slippery on your losing side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When at Bordeaux I was ambassador,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I heard them say so, and could scarce say: Nay.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">[<i>He takes hold of something in</i><br /></span> +<span class="i12"><i>his sleeve, and rises.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter</span>, <i>rising</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They lied: and you lie, not for the first time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have you got there, fumbling up your sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stolen purse?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nay, liar in your teeth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead liar too; St. Denis and St. Lambert!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">[<i>Strikes at</i> Sir Peter <i>with a dagger</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter</span>, <i>striking him flatlings with his axe</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How thief! thief! thief! so there, fair thief, so there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. George Guienne! glaives for the castellan!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You French, you are but dead, unless you lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your spears upon the earth. St. George Guienne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well done, John Curzon, how he has them now.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="head5" style="margin-top: 4em;"><i>In the Castle.</i></p> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">W</span>HAT shall we do with all these prisoners, sir?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, put them all to ransom, those that can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pay anything, but not too light though, John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing we have them on the hip: for those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have no money, that being certified,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, turn them out of doors before they spy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bring Sir Lambert guarded unto me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="rgt">[<i>He goes.</i></div><span class="i0">I will, fair sir.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I do not wish to kill him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although I think I ought; he shall go mark'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the saints, though!<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Enter</i> Lambert <i>guarded</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Now, Sir Lambert, now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sort of death do you expect to get,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being taken this way?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Cousin! cousin! think!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am your own blood; may God pardon me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am not fit to die; if you knew all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All I have done since I was young and good.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! you would give me yet another chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As God would, that I might wash all clear out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By serving you and Him. Let me go now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will pay you down more golden crowns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ransom than the king would!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Well, stand back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do not touch me! No, you shall not die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet pay ransom. You, John Curzon, cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some carpenters to build a scaffold, high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outside the gate; when it is built, sound out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all good folks, 'Come, see a traitor punish'd!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take me my knight, and set him up thereon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the hangman shave his head quite clean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cut his ears off close up to the head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cause the minstrels all the while to play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft music, and good singing; for this day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is my high day of triumph; is it not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Lambert?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Ah! on your own blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own name, you heap this foul disgrace? you dare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hands and fame thus sullied, to go back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take the lady Alice?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Say her name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again, and you are dead, slain here by me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should I talk with you? I'm master here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do not want your schooling; is it not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mercy that you are not dangling dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There in the gateway with a broken neck?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such mercy! why not kill me then outright?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To die is nothing; but to live that all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May point their fingers! yea, I'd rather die.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">John Curzon.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, will it make you any uglier man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lose your ears? they're much too big for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You ugly Judas!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="rgt">[<i>To</i> Lambert.</div><span class="i6">Hold, John!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">That's your choice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To die, mind! Then you shall die: Lambert mine,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I thank you now for choosing this so well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It saves me much perplexity and doubt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance an ill deed too, for half I count<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This sparing traitors is an ill deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lambert, die bravely, and we're almost friends.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert</span>, <i>grovelling</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O God! this is a fiend and not a man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will some one save me from him? help, help, help!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not die.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Why, what is this I see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man who is a knight, and bandied words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So well just now with me, is lying down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone mad for fear like this! So, so, you thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You knew the worst, and might say what you pleased.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have guess'd this from a man like you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh! righteous Job would give up skin for skin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, all a man can have for simple life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we talk fine, yea, even a hound like this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who needs must know that when he dies, deep hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will hold him fast for ever, so fine we talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Would rather die,' all that. Now sir, get up!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And choose again: shall it be head sans ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or trunk sans head?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">John Curzon, pull him up!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, life then? go and build the scaffold, John.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lambert, I hope that never on this earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We meet again; that you'll turn out a monk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mend the life I give you, so farewell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm sorry you're a rascal. John, despatch.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 4em;"><i>In the French camp before the Castle.</i><br /><br /> +Sir Peter <i>prisoner</i>, Guesclin, Clisson, Sir Lambert.</p> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">S</span>O now is come the ending of my life;<br /></span> +<span class="id0">If I could clear this sickening lump away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sticks in my dry throat, and say a word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guesclin might listen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Guesclin.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Tell me, fair sir knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you have been clean liver before God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then you need not fear much; as for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot say I hate you, yet my oath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cousin Lambert's ears here clench the thing.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I knew you could not hate me, therefore I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am bold to pray for life; 'twill harm your cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hang knights of good name, harms here in France<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have small doubt, at any rate hereafter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men will remember you another way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than I should care to be remember'd, ah!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Although hot lead runs through me for my blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this falls cold as though I said, Sweet lords,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give back my falcon!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">See how young I am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you care altogether more for France,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say rather one French faction, than for all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The state of Christendom? a gallant knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As (yea, by God!) I have been, is more worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than many castles; will you bring this death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a mere act of justice, on my head?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Think how it ends all, death! all other things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can somehow be retrieved, yea, send me forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naked and maimed, rather than slay me here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then somehow will I get me other clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And somehow will I get me some poor horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, somehow clad in poor old rusty arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will ride and smite among the serried glaives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear not death so; for I can tilt right well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me not say I could; I know all tricks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sway the sharp sword cunningly; ah you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, my Lord Clisson, in the other days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have seen me learning these, yea, call to mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in the trodden corn by Chartres town,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +<span class="i0">When you were nearly swooning from the back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your black horse, those three blades slid at once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From off my sword's edge; pray for me, my lord!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Clisson.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, this is pitiful, to see him die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lord the Constable, I pray you note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you are losing some few thousand crowns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By slaying this man; also think: his lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the Garonne river lie for leagues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And are right rich, a many mills he has,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three abbeys of grey monks do hold of him:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though wishing well for Clement, as we do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know the next heir, his old uncle, well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who does not care two deniers for the knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As things go now, but slay him, and then see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How he will bristle up like any perch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With curves of spears. What! do not doubt, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll get the money, this man saved my life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will buy him for two thousand crowns;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, five then: eh! what! No again? well then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand crowns?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Guesclin.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">My sweet lord, much I grieve<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot please you, yea, good sooth, I grieve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This knight must die, as verily he must;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I have sworn it, so men take him out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Use him not roughly.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Lambert</span>, <i>coming forward</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Music, do you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music will suit you well, I think, because<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You look so mild, like Laurence being grill'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or perhaps music soft and slow, because<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is high day of triumph unto me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not, Peter?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">You are frighten'd, though,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh! you are pale, because this hurts you much,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose life was pleasant to you, not like mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You ruin'd wretch! Men mock me in the streets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only in whispers loud, because I am<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Friend of the constable; will this please you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unhappy Peter? once a-going home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without my servants, and a little drunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At midnight through the lone dim lamp-lit streets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A whore came up and spat into my eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather to blind me than to make me see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she was very drunk, and tottering back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even in the middle of her laughter fell<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And cut her head against the pointed stones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I lean'd on my staff, and look'd at her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cried, being drunk.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Girls would not spit at you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are so handsome, I think verily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most ladies would be glad to kiss your eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet you will be hung like a cur dog<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Five minutes hence, and grow black in the face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And curl your toes up. Therefore I am glad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Guess why I stand and talk this nonsense now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Guesclin getting ready to play chess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Clisson doing something with his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can't see what, talking to Guesclin though,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't know what about, perhaps of you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, cousin Peter, while I stroke your beard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me say this, I'd like to tell you now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That your life hung upon a game of chess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That if, say, my squire Robert here should beat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why you should live, but hang if I beat him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then guess, clever Peter, what I should do then:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, give it up? why, Peter, I should let<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My squire Robert beat me, then you would think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you were safe, you know; Eh? not at all,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +<span class="i0">But I should keep you three days in some hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving you salt to eat, which would be kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Considering the tax there is on salt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And afterwards should let you go, perhaps?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No I should not, but I should hang you, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a red rope in lieu of mere grey rope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I forgot, you have not told me yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you can guess why I talk nonsense thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instead of drinking wine while you are hang'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are not quick at guessing, give it up.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the reason; here I hold your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch you growing paler, see you writhe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this, my Peter, is a joy so dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot by all striving tell you how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I love it, nor I think, good man, would you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite understand my great delight therein;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, when you had me underneath you once,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spat as it were, and said, 'Go take him out,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That they might do that thing to me whereat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en now this long time off I could well shriek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then you tried forget I ever lived,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunk your hating into other things;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I: St. Denis! though, I think you'll faint,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Your lips are grey so; yes, you will, unless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You let it out and weep like a hurt child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurrah! you do now. Do not go just yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am Alice, am right like her now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will you not kiss me on the lips, my love?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Clisson.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You filthy beast, stand back and let him go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or by God's eyes I'll choke you!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">[<i>Kneeling to</i> Sir Peter.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Fair sir knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I kneel upon my knees and pray to you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you would pardon me for this your death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God knows how much I wish you still alive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Also how heartily I strove to save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your life at this time; yea, he knows quite well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(I swear it, so forgive me!) how I would,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it were possible, give up my life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon this grass for yours; fair knight, although,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knowing all things knows this thing too, well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet when you see his face some short time hence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell him I tried to save you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">O! my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot say this is as good as life,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +<span class="i0">But yet it makes me feel far happier now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if at all, after a thousand years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see God's face, I will speak loud and bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell Him you were kind, and like Himself;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, may God bless you!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Did you note how I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell weeping just now? pray you, do not think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lambert's taunts did this, I hardly heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The base things that he said, being deep in thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all things that have happen'd since I was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little child; and so at last I thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my true lady: truly, sir, it seem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer gone than yesterday, that this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was the sole reason God let me be born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twenty-five years ago, that I might love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her, my sweet lady, and be loved by her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This seem'd so yesterday, to-day death comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is so bitter strong, I cannot see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why I was born.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But as a last request,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray you, O kind Clisson, send some man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some good man, mind you, to say how I died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take my last love to her: fare-you-well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may God keep you; I must go now, lest<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I grow too sick with thinking on these things;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise my feet are wearied of the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From whence I shall be lifted upright soon.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">[<i>As he goes.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah me! shamed too, I wept at fear of death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet not so, I only wept because<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was no beautiful lady to kiss me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I died, and sweetly wish good speed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her dear lips. O for some lady, though<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw her ne'er before; Alice, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not ask for; Clisson was right kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he had been a woman, I should die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without this sickness: but I am all wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So wrong, and hopelessly afraid to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, I will go.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">My God! how sick I am,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only she could come and kiss me now.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 4em;"><i>The Hotel de la Barde, Bordeaux.</i><br /><br /> +The Lady Alice de la Barde <i>looking out of a<br />window into the street</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">N</span>O news yet! surely, still he holds his own:<br /></span> +<span class="id0">That garde stands well; I mind me passing it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some months ago; God grant the walls are strong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard some knights say something yestereve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tried hard to forget: words far apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struck on my heart something like this; one said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What eh! a Gascon with an English name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harpdon? then nought, but afterwards: Poictou.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one who answers to a question ask'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then carelessly regretful came: No, no.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereto in answer loud and eagerly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One said: Impossible? Christ, what foul play!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went off angrily; and while thenceforth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hurried gaspingly afraid, I heard:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guesclin; Five thousand men-at-arms; Clisson.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart misgives me it is all in vain<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I send these succours; and in good time there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their trumpet sounds: ah! here they are; good knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God up in Heaven keep you.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">If they come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find him prisoner, for I can't believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guesclin will slay him, even though they storm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last horse turns the corner.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">God in Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have I got to thinking of at last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thief I will not name is with Guesclin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves him for his lands. My love! my love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, if I lose you after all the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What shall I do?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I cannot bear the noise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And light street out there, with this thought alive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like any curling snake within my brain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me just hide my head within these soft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep cushions, there to try and think it out.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">[<i>Lying in the window-seat.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot hear much noise now, and I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I shall go to sleep: it all sounds dim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faint, and I shall soon forget most things;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, almost that I am alive and here;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +<span class="i0">It goes slow, comes slow, like a big mill-wheel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On some broad stream, with long green weeds a-sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft and slow it rises and it falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still going onward.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lying so, one kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I should be in Avalon asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the poppies, and the yellow flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they should brush my cheek, my hair being spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far out among the stems; soft mice and small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eating and creeping all about my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red shod and tired; and the flies should come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creeping o'er my broad eyelids unafraid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there should be a noise of water going,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear blue fresh water breaking on the slates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Likewise the flies should creep: God's eyes! God help!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trumpet? I will run fast, leap adown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slippery sea-stairs, where the crabs fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i18">Ah!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was half dreaming, but the trumpet's true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stops here at our house. The Clisson arms?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, now for news. But I must hold my heart,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And be quite gentle till he is gone out;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And afterwards: but he is still alive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He must be still alive.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Enter a</i> Squire <i>of</i> Clisson's.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Good day, fair sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I give you welcome, knowing whence you come.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My Lady Alice de la Barde, I come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Oliver Clisson, knight and mighty lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bringing you tidings: I make bold to hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You will not count me villain, even if<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They wring your heart, nor hold me still in hate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I am but a mouthpiece after all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mouthpiece, too, of one who wishes well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To you and your's.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Can you talk faster, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get over all this quicker? fix your eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On mine, I pray you, and whate'er you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still go on talking fast, unless I fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bid you stop.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I pray your pardon then,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And, looking in your eyes, fair lady, say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am unhappy that your knight is dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take heart, and listen! let me tell you all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We were five thousand goodly men-at-arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scant five hundred had he in that hold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rotten sand-stone walls were wet with rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fell in lumps wherever a stone hit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet for three days about the barrier there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deadly glaives were gather'd, laid across,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And push'd and pull'd; the fourth our engines came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still amid the crash of falling walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roar of lombards, rattle of hard bolts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steady bow-strings flash'd, and still stream'd out<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. George's banner, and the seven swords,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still they cried: St. George Guienne! until<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their walls were flat as Jericho's of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our rush came, and cut them from the keep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stop, sir, and tell me if you slew him then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where he died, if you can really mean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Peter Harpdon, the good knight, is dead?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair lady, in the base-court:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">What base-court?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What do you talk of? Nay, go on, go on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas only something gone within my head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you not know, one turns one's head round quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And something cracks there with sore pain? go on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still look at my eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Almost alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There in the base-court fought he with his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Using his left hand much, more than the wont<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of most knights now-a-days; our men gave back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wheresoever he hit a downright blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some one fell bleeding, for no plate could hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the sway of body and great arm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he grew tired, and some man (no! not I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I swear not I, fair lady, as I live!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrust at him with a glaive between the knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And threw him; down he fell, sword undermost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many fell on him, crying out their cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tore his sword from him, tore his helm off, and:<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, slew him: I am much too young to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair God, so let me die!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +<span class="i10">You have done well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Done all your message gently, pray you go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our knights will make you cheer; moreover, take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This bag of franks for your expenses.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">[<i>The Squire kneels.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14">But<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You do not go; still looking at my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You kneel! what, squire, do you mock me then?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You need not tell me who has set you on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tell me only, 'tis a made-up tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are some lover may-be or his friend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, if you loved me once, or your friend loved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think, is it not enough that I kneel down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kiss your feet? your jest will be right good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you give in now; carry it too far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'twill be cruel: not yet? but you weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Almost, as though you loved me; love me then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And go to Heaven by telling all your sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will kiss you then with all my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the mouth: O! what can I do then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To move you?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Lady fair, forgive me still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know I am so sorry, but my tale<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Is not yet finish'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i8">So they bound his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought him tall and pale to Guesclin's tent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, seeing him, leant his head upon his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ponder'd somewhile, afterwards, looking up:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair dame, what shall I say?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Yea, I know now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good squire, you may go now with my thanks.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Squire.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, lady, for your own sake I say this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, for my own sake, too, and Clisson's sake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Guesclin told him he must be hanged soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within a while he lifted up his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spoke for his own life; not crouching, though,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As abjectly afraid to die, nor yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sullenly brave as many a thief will die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet as one that plays at japes with God:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few words he spoke; not so much what he said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved us, I think, as, saying it, there played<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange tenderness from that big soldier there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About his pleading; eagerness to live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because folk loved him, and he loved them back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many gallant plans unfinish'd now<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +<span class="i0">For ever. Clisson's heart, which may God bless!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was moved to pray for him, but all in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore I bring this message:<br /></span> +<span class="i12">That he waits,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still loving you, within the little church<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose windows, with the one eye of the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the altar, every night behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great dim broken walls he strove to keep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There my Lord Clisson did his burial well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, lady, I will go: God give you rest!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thank Clisson from me, squire, and farewell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now to keep myself from going mad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Christ! I have been a many times to church,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ever since my mother taught me prayers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have used them daily, but to-day I wish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pray another way; come face to face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Christ, that I may clasp your knees and pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not what; at any rate come now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From one of many places where you are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either in Heaven amid thick angel wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sitting on the altar strange with gems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or high up in the duskness of the apse;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Let us go, You and I, a long way off,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the little damp, dark, Poitevin church.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While you sit on the coffin in the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will I lie down, my face on the bare stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between your feet, and chatter anything<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have heard long ago. What matters it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So I may keep you there, your solemn face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long hair even-flowing on each side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until you love me well enough to speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give me comfort? yea, till o'er your chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cloven red beard the great tears roll down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pity for my misery, and I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissed over by you.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Eh Guesclin! if I were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Countess Mountfort now, that kiss'd the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the salt sea come to fight for her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! just to go about with many knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherever you went, and somehow on one day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a thick wood to catch you off your guard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let you find, you and your some fifty friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing but arrows wheresoe'er you turn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, and red crosses, great spears over them;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, between a lane of my true men,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To walk up pale and stern and tall, and with<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My arms on my surcoat, and his therewith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then to make you kneel, O knight Guesclin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then: alas! alas! when all is said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could I do but let you go again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being pitiful woman? I get no revenge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever happens; and I get no comfort:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am but weak, and cannot move my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as men bid me.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Strange I do not die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suppose this has not happen'd after all?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will lean out again and watch for news.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wonder how long I can still feel thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though I watch'd for news, feel as I did<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just half-an-hour ago, before this news.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How all the street is humming, some men sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some men talk; some look up at the house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then lay their heads together and look grave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their laughter pains me sorely in the heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their thoughtful talking makes my head turn round:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, some men sing, what is it then they sing?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh? Launcelot, and love and fate and death:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They ought to sing of him who was as wight<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +<span class="i0">As Launcelot or Wade, and yet avail'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just nothing, but to fail and fail and fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so at last to die and leave me here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone and wretched; yea, perhaps they will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When many years are past, make songs of us:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God help me, though, truly I never thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I should make a story in this way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A story that his eyes can never see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">[<i>One sings from outside.</i>]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Therefore be it believed</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Whatsoever he grieved,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>When his horse was relieved,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>This Launcelot,</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Beat down on his knee,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Right valiant was he</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>God's body to see,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Though he saw it not.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Right valiant to move,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>But for his sad love</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The high God above</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Stinted his praise.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Yet so he was glad</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>That his son, Lord Galahad,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>That high joyaunce had</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>All his life-days.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Sing we therefore then</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Launcelot's praise again,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>For he wan crownés ten,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>If he wan not twelve.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>To his death from his birth</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>He was mickle of worth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Lay him in the cold earth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>A long grave ye may delve.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Omnes homines benedicite!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>This last fitte ye may see,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>All men pray for me</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Who made this history</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Cunning and fairly.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>RAPUNZEL</big></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> +<h2>RAPUNZEL</h2> + +<div class="cpoem20"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Prince</span>, <i>being in the wood near the tower, in the evening</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">I</span> COULD not even think<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What made me weep that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out of the council-hall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The courtiers pass'd away,—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let down your hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it not true that every day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She climbeth up the same strange way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her scarlet cloak spread broad and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Over my golden hair?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And left me there alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To think on what they said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Thou art a king's own son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis fit that thou should'st wed.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let down your hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I undo the knotted mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fathoms below the shadows pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my hair along the grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O my golden hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I put my armour on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thinking on what they said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Thou art a king's own son,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis fit that thou should'st wed.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let down your hair!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See on the marble parapet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lean my brow, strive to forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fathoms below my hair grows wet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the dew, my golden hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I rode throughout the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men did not bow the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I was the king's own son:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He rides to dream, they said.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wind up your hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See on the marble parapet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faint red stains with tears are wet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The long years pass, no help comes yet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To free my golden hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For leagues and leagues I rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till hot my armour grew,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Till underneath the leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I felt the evening dew.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Weep through your hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet: but I am growing old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For want of love my heart is cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Years pass, the while I loose and fold<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The fathoms of my hair.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<div class="cpoem30" style="margin-top:3em;"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Prince</span>, <i>in the morning</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">I</span> HAVE heard tales of men, who in the night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Saw paths of stars let down to earth from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who followed them until they reach'd the light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein they dwell, whose sins are all forgiven;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But who went backward when they saw the gate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of diamond, nor dared to enter in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All their life long they were content to wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Purging them patiently of every sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I must have had a dream of some such thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now am just awaking from that dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For even in grey dawn those strange words ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through heart and brain, and still I see that gleam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For in my dream at sunset-time I lay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath these beeches, mail and helmet off,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Right full of joy that I had come away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From court; for I was patient of the scoff<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That met me always there from day to day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From any knave or coward of them all:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was content to live that wretched way;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For truly till I left the council-hall,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rode forth arm'd beneath the burning sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My gleams of happiness were faint and few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But then I saw my real life had begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And that I should be strong quite well I knew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For I was riding out to look for love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Therefore the birds within the thickets sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even in hot noontide; as I pass'd, above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The elms o'ersway'd with longing towards me hung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now some few fathoms from the place where I<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay in the beech-wood, was a tower fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marble corners faint against the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And dreamily I wonder'd what lived there:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because it seem'd a dwelling for a queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No belfry for the swinging of great bells.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bolt or stone had ever crush'd the green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shafts, amber and rose walls, no soot that tells<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of the Norse torches burning up the roofs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the flower-carven marble could I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But rather on all sides I saw the proofs<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a great loneliness that sicken'd me;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Making me feel a doubt that was not fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whether my whole life long had been a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I should wake up soon in some place, where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The piled-up arms of the fighting angels gleam;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not born as yet, but going to be born,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No naked baby as I was at first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But an armed knight, whom fire, hate and scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Could turn from nothing: my heart almost burst<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath the beeches, as I lay a-dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I tried so hard to read this riddle through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To catch some golden cord that I saw gleaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like gossamer against the autumn blue.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But while I ponder'd these things, from the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There came a black-hair'd woman, tall and bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who strode straight up to where the tower stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And cried out shrilly words, whereon behold—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch</span>, <i>from the tower</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Rapunzel, Rapunzel,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Let down your hair!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah Christ! it was no dream then, but there stood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(She comes again) a maiden passing fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the roof, with face turn'd to the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bearing within her arms waves of her yellow hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I read my riddle when I saw her stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poor love! her face quite pale against her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praying to all the leagues of empty land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To save her from the woe she suffer'd there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To think! they trod upon her golden hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the witches' sabbaths; it was a delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these foul things, while she, with thin feet bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood on the roof upon the winter night,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To plait her dear hair into many plaits,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then, while God's eye look'd upon the thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the very likenesses of Devil's bats,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the ends of her long hair to swing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now she stood above the parapet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, spreading out her arms, let her hair flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath that veil her smooth white forehead set<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the marble, more I do not know;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because before my eyes a film of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Floated, as now it floats. O unknown love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would that I could thy yellow stair behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If still thou standest the lead roof above!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">The Witch</span>, <i>as she passes</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Is there any who will dare<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To climb up the yellow stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Glorious Rapunzel's golden hair?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If it would please God make you sing again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think that I might very sweetly die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul somehow reach heaven in joyous pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heavy body on the beech-nuts lie.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now I remember what a most strange year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Most strange and awful, in the beechen wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have pass'd now; I still have a faint fear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is a kind of dream not understood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have seen no one in this wood except<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The witch and her; have heard no human tones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the witches' revelry has crept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the very jointing of my bones.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! I know now; I could not go away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But needs must stop to hear her sing that song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She always sings at dawning of the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am not happy here, for I am strong,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And every morning do I whet my sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet Rapunzel still weeps within the tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still God ties me down to the green sward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because I cannot see the gold stair floating lower.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head7"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel</span> <i>sings from the tower</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">My mother taught me prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To say when I had need;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I have so many cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That I can take no heed<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +<span class="i4">Of many words in them;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I remember this:<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Christ, bring me to thy bliss.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Mary, maid withouten wem,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Keep me!</i> I am lone, I wis,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Yet besides I have made this<br /></span> +<span class="i4">By myself: <i>Give me a kiss,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Dear God dwelling up in heaven!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4">Also: <i>Send me a true knight,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Lord Christ, with a steel sword, bright,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Broad, and trenchant; yea, and seven</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Spans from hilt to point, O Lord!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And let the handle of his sword</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Be gold on silver, Lord in heaven!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Such a sword as I see gleam</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sometimes, when they let me dream.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Yea, besides, I have made this:<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Lord, give Mary a dear kiss,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>And let gold Michael, who looked down,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>When I was there, on Rouen town</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>From the spire, bring me that kiss</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>On a lily! Lord do this!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">These prayers on the dreadful nights,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +<span class="i4">When the witches plait my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the fearfullest of sights<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On the earth and in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will not let me close my eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I murmur often, mix'd with sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That my weak heart will not hold<br /></span> +<span class="i4">At some things that I behold.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nay, not sighs, but quiet groans,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That swell out the little bones<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of my bosom; till a trance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">God sends in middle of that dance,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And I behold the countenance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of Michael, and can feel no more<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The bitter east wind biting sore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My naked feet; can see no more<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The crayfish on the leaden floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That mock with feeler and grim claw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Yea, often in that happy trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beside the blessed countenance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of golden Michael, on the spire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Glowing all crimson in the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of sunset, I behold a face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which sometime, if God give me grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May kiss me in this very place.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="head7" style="margin-top:4em;"><i>Evening in the tower.</i></p> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">I</span>T grows half way between the dark and light;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love, we have been six hours here alone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear that she will come before the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And if she finds us thus we are undone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, draw a little nearer, that your breath<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May touch my lips, let my cheek feel your arm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now tell me, did you ever see a death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or ever see a man take mortal harm?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once came two knights and fought with swords below,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And while they fought I scarce could look at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My head swam so; after, a moaning low<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drew my eyes down; I saw against the wall<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One knight lean dead, bleeding from head and breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet seem'd it like a line of poppies red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the golden twilight, as he took his rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the dusky time he scarcely seemed dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the other, on his face, six paces off,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay moaning, and the old familiar name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He mutter'd through the grass, seem'd like a scoff<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of some lost soul remembering his past fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His helm all dinted lay beside him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The visor-bars were twisted towards the face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crest, which was a lady very fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrought wonderfully, was shifted from its place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shower'd mail-rings on the speedwell lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perhaps my eyes were dazzled with the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blazed in the west, yet surely on that day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some crimson thing had changed the grass from bright<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pure green I love so. But the knight who died<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lay there for days after the other went;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until one day I heard a voice that cried:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair knight, I see Sir Robert we were sent<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To carry dead or living to the king.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So the knights came and bore him straight away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On their lance truncheons, such a batter'd thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His mother had not known him on that day,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But for his helm-crest, a gold lady fair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrought wonderfully.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Ah, they were brothers then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And often rode together, doubtless where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swords were thickest, and were loyal men,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until they fell in these same evil dreams.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Yea, love; but shall we not depart from hence?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white moon groweth golden fast, and gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the aspens stems; I fear, and yet a sense<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of fluttering victory comes over me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That will not let me fear aright; my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feel how it beats, love, strives to get to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I breathe so fast that my lips needs must part;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your breath swims round my mouth, but let us go.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I, Sebald, also, pluck from off the staff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crimson banner; let it lie below,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above it in the wind let grasses laugh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now let us go, love, down the winding stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With fingers intertwined: ay, feel my sword!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wrought it long ago, with golden hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flowing about the hilts, because a word,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sung by a minstrel old, had set me dreaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a sweet bow'd down face with yellow hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betwixt green leaves I used to see it gleaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A half smile on the lips, though lines of care<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had sunk the cheeks, and made the great eyes hollow;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What other work in all the world had I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But through all turns of fate that face to follow?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But wars and business kept me there to die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O child, I should have slain my brother, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My brother, Love, lain moaning in the grass,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Had I not ridden out to look for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I had watch'd the gilded courtiers pass<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the golden hall. But it is strange your name<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is not the same the minstrel sung of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You call'd it Rapunzel, 'tis not the name.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See, love, the stems shine through the open door.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center" style="text-indent: -3em; margin-top:4em;"><i>Morning in the woods.</i></p> + + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Rapunzel.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">O</span> LOVE! me and my unknown name you have well won;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The witch's name was Rapunzel: eh! not so sweet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No! but is this real grass, love, that I tread upon?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What call they these blue flowers that lean across my feet?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">The Prince.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dip down your dear face in the dewy grass, O love!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ever let the sweet slim harebells, tenderly hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kiss both your parted lips; and I will hang above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And try to sing that song the dreamy harper sung.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><i>He sings.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Twixt the sunlight and the shade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Float up memories of my maid:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">God, remember Guendolen!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Gold or gems she did not wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But her yellow rippled hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Like a veil, hid Guendolen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Twixt the sunlight and the shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My rough hands so strangely made,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Folded Golden Guendolen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Hands used to grip the sword-hilt hard,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Framed her face, while on the sward<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Tears fell down from Guendolen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Guendolen now speaks no word,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hands fold round about the sword:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Now no more of Guendolen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Only 'twixt the light and shade<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Floating memories of my maid<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Make me pray for Guendolen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head5"><span class="smcap">Guendolen.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I kiss thee, new-found name! but I will never go:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your hands need never grip the hammer'd sword again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all my golden hair shall ever round you flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between the light and shade from Golden Guendolen.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></div></div></div> + + +<p class="center" style="text-indent: -3em; margin-top:4em;"><i>Afterwards, in the Palace.</i></p> + +<div class="cpoem20"> +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">King Sebald.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">I</span> TOOK my armour off,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Put on king's robes of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the kirtle green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gold fell fold on fold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">The Witch</span>, <i>out of hell</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Guendolen! Guendolen!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>One lock of hair!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">Guendolen.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am so glad, for every day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kisses me much the same way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in the tower: under the sway<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of all my golden hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">King Sebald.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We rode throughout the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A gold crown on my head;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the gold-hung streets,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Praise God! the people said.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Gwendolen! Guendolen!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Lend me your hair!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">Guendolen.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Verily, I seem like one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, when day is almost done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through a thick wood meets the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That blazes in her hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">King Sebald.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, at the palace gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Praise God! the great knights said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Sebald the high king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the lady's golden head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>Woe is me! Guendolen</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sweeps back her hair.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">Guendolen.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nothing wretched now, no screams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was unhappy once in dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even now a harsh voice seems<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To hang about my hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="head8"><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iw0">Woe! that any man could dare<br /></span> +<span class="iw0">To climb up the yellow stair,<br /></span> +<span class="iw0">Glorious Guendolen's golden hair.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> +<h2><big>CONCERNING GEFFRAY TESTE NOIRE</big></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONCERNING GEFFRAY TESTE NOIRE</h2> + + + +<div class="cpoem30"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span>ND if you meet the Canon of Chimay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As going to Ortaise you well may do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greet him from John of Castel Neuf, and say<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All that I tell you, for all this is true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Geffray Teste Noire was a Gascon thief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who, under shadow of the English name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pilled all such towns and countries as were lief<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To King Charles and St. Denis; thought it blame<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If anything escaped him; so my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Duke of Berry, sent Sir John Bonne Lance,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And other knights, good players with the sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To check this thief, and give the land a chance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therefore we set our bastides round the tower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That Geffray held, the strong thief! like a king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High perch'd upon the rock of Ventadour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hopelessly strong by Christ! It was mid spring,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When first I joined the little army there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With ten good spears; Auvergne is hot, each day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We sweated armed before the barrier;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Good feats of arms were done there often. Eh?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your brother was slain there? I mind me now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A right good man-at-arms, God pardon him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think 'twas Geffray smote him on the brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With some spiked axe, and while he totter'd, dim<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">About the eyes, the spear of Alleyne Roux<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slipped through his camaille and his throat; well, well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alleyne is paid now; your name Alleyne too?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mary! how strange! but this tale I would tell:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For spite of all our bastides, damned Blackhead<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would ride abroad whene'er he chose to ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We could not stop him; many a burgher bled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dear gold all round his girdle; far and wide<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The villaynes dwelt in utter misery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twixt us and thief Sir Geffray; hauled this way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Sir Bonne Lance at one time; he gone by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down comes this Teste Noire on another day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And therefore they dig up the stone, grind corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hew wood, draw water, yea, they lived, in short,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I said just now, utterly forlorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till this our knave and blackhead was out-fought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So Bonne Lance fretted, thinking of some trap<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Day after day, till on a time he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John of Newcastle, if we have good hap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We catch our thief in two days. How? I said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, Sir, to-day he rideth out again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hoping to take well certain sumpter mules<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Carcassonne, going with little train,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because, forsooth, he thinketh us mere fools;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if we set an ambush in some wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He is but dead: so, Sir, take thirty spears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Verville forest, if it seem you good.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then felt I like the horse in Job, who hears<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dancing trumpet sound, and we went forth;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my red lion on the spear-head flapped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As faster than the cool wind we rode north,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Towards the wood of Verville; thus it happed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We rode a soft pace on that day, while spies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Got news about Sir Geffray: the red wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the road-side bush was clear; the flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The dragon-flies I mind me most, did shine<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In brighter arms than ever I put on;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So: Geffray, said our spies, would pass that way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next day at sundown: then he must be won;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so we enter'd Verville wood next day,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the afternoon; through it the highway runs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twixt copses of green hazel, very thick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And underneath, with glimmering of suns,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The primroses are happy; the dews lick<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soft green moss: 'Put cloths about your arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lest they should glitter; surely they will go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a long thin line, watchful for alarms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all their carriages of booty; so,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lay down my pennon in the grass: Lord God.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What have we lying here? will they be cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wonder, being so bare, above the sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Instead of under? This was a knight too, fold<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lying on fold of ancient rusted mail;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No plate at all, gold rowels to the spurs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see the quiet gleam of turquoise pale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Along the ceinture; but the long time blurs<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Even the tinder of his coat to nought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Except these scraps of leather; see how white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The skull is, loose within the coif! He fought<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A good fight, maybe, ere he was slain quite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No armour on the legs too; strange in faith!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little skeleton for a knight, though: ah!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This one is bigger, truly without scathe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His enemies escaped not! ribs driven out far;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That must have reach'd the heart, I doubt: how now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What say you, Aldovrand, a woman? why?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the coif a gold wreath on the brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yea, see the hair not gone to powder, lie,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Golden, no doubt, once: yea, and very small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This for a knight; but for a dame, my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These loose-hung bones seem shapely still, and tall.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Didst ever see a woman's bones, my Lord?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Often, God help me! I remember when<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I was a simple boy, fifteen years old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Jacquerie froze up the blood of men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With their fell deeds, not fit now to be told.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God help again! we enter'd Beauvais town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slaying them fast, whereto I help'd, mere boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I was then; we gentles cut them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These burners and defilers, with great joy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reason for that, too, in the great church there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These fiends had lit a fire, that soon went out,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The church at Beauvais being so great and fair:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My father, who was by me, gave a shout<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between a beast's howl and a woman's scream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then, panting, chuckled to me: 'John, look! look!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Count the dames' skeletons!' From some bad dream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a man just awaked, my father shook;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I, being faint with smelling the burnt bones,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And very hot with fighting down the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sick of such a life, fell down, with groans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My head went weakly nodding to my feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">—An arrow had gone through her tender throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And her right wrist was broken; then I saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reason why she had on that war-coat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their story came out clear without a flaw;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For when he knew that they were being waylaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He threw it over her, yea, hood and all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereby he was much hack'd, while they were stay'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By those their murderers; many an one did fall<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath his arm, no doubt, so that he clear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their circle, bore his death-wound out of it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as they rode, some archer least afear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drew a strong bow, and thereby she was hit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still as he rode he knew not she was dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thought her but fainted from her broken wrist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bound with his great leathern belt: she bled?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who knows! he bled too, neither was there miss'd<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The beating of her heart, his heart beat well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For both of them, till here, within this wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He died scarce sorry; easy this to tell;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After these years the flowers forget their blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How could it be? never before that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">However much a soldier I might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could I look on a skeleton and say<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I care not for it, shudder not: now see,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over those bones I sat and pored for hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thought, and dream'd, and still I scarce could see<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The small white bones that lay upon the flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But evermore I saw the lady; she<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With her dear gentle walking leading in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By a chain of silver twined about her wrists,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her loving knight, mounted and arm'd to win<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Great honour for her, fighting in the lists.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O most pale face, that brings such joy and sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into men's hearts (yea, too, so piercing sharp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That joy is, that it marcheth nigh to sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ever, like an overwinded harp).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your face must hurt me always: pray you now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Doth it not hurt you too? seemeth some pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hold you always, pain to hold your brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So smooth, unwrinkled ever; yea again,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Your long eyes where the lids seem like to drop,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would you not, lady, were they shut fast, feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far merrier? there so high they will not stop,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They are most sly to glide forth and to steal<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into my heart; I kiss their soft lids there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in green gardens scarce can stop my lips<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +<span class="i0">From wandering on your face, but that your hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Falls down and tangles me, back my face slips.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or say your mouth, I saw you drink red wine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once at a feast; how slowly it sank in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though you fear'd that some wild fate might twine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within that cup, and slay you for a sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when you talk your lips do arch and move<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In such wise that a language new I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides their sound; they quiver, too, with love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When you are standing silent; know this, too,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw you kissing once, like a curved sword<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bites with all its edge, did your lips lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curled gently, slowly, long time could afford<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For caught-up breathings: like a dying sigh<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They gather'd up their lines and went away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And still kept twitching with a sort of smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As likely to be weeping presently;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your hands too, how I watch'd them all the while!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cry out St. Peter now, quoth Aldovrand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I cried, St. Peter! broke out from the wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all my spears; we met them hand to hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shortly slew them; natheless, by the rood,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We caught not Blackhead then, or any day;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Months after that he died at last in bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a wound pick'd up at a barrier-fray;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That same year's end a steel bolt in the head,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And much bad living killed Teste Noire at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">John Froissart knoweth he is dead by now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No doubt, but knoweth not this tale just past;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perchance then you can tell him what I show.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In my new castle, down beside the Eure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is a little chapel of squared stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Painted inside and out; in green nook pure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There did I lay them, every wearied bone;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And over it they lay, with stone-white hands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clasped fast together, hair made bright with gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Jaques Picard, known through many lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrought cunningly; he's dead now: I am old.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> +<h2>A GOOD KNIGHT IN PRISON</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Guy</span>, <i>being in the court of a Pagan castle</i>.</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id2"><span class="dcap">T</span>HIS castle where I dwell, it stands<br /></span> +<span class="id2">A long way off from Christian lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A long way off my lady's hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A long way off the aspen trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And murmur of the lime-tree bees.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But down the Valley of the Rose<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lady often hawking goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heavy of cheer; oft turns behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leaning towards the western wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because it bringeth to her mind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sad whisperings of happy times,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The face of him who sings these rhymes.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">King Guilbert rides beside her there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bends low and calls her very fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And strives, by pulling down his hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hide from my dear lady's ken<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grisly gash I gave him, when<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I cut him down at Camelot;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">However he strives, he hides it not,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That tourney will not be forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Besides, it is King Guilbert's lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whatever he says she answers not.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Now tell me, you that are in love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the king's son to the wood-dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which is the better, he or I?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">For this king means that I should die<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In this lone Pagan castle, where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flowers droop in the bad air<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the September evening.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Look, now I take mine ease and sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Counting as but a little thing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The foolish spite of a bad king.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">For these vile things that hem me in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These Pagan beasts who live in sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sickly flowers pale and wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The grim blue-bearded castellan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The stanchions half worn-out with rust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereto their banner vile they trust:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why, all these things I hold them just<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As dragons in a missal book,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein, whenever we may look,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We see no horror, yea delight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We have, the colours are so bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Likewise we note the specks of white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the great plates of burnish'd gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Just so this Pagan castle old,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And everything I can see there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sick-pining in the marshland air,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I note: I will go over now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like one who paints with knitted brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The flowers and all things one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the snail on the wall to the setting sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Four great walls, and a little one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That leads down to the barbican,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Which walls with many spears they man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When news comes to the castellan<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of Launcelot being in the land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">And as I sit here, close at hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Four spikes of sad sick sunflowers stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The castellan with a long wand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cuts down their leaves as he goes by,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ponderingly, with screw'd-up eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fingers twisted in his beard.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nay, was it a knight's shout I heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have a hope makes me afeard:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It cannot be, but if some dream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just for a minute made me deem<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw among the flowers there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lady's face with long red hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pale, ivory-colour'd dear face come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I was wont to see her some<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fading September afternoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss me, saying nothing, soon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To leave me by myself again;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Could I get this by longing? vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">The castellan is gone: I see<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +<span class="i2">On one broad yellow flower a bee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drunk with much honey.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Christ! again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some distant knight's voice brings me pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thought I had forgot to feel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I never heard the blissful steel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These ten years past; year after year,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through all my hopeless sojourn here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No Christian pennon has been near.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laus Deo! the dragging wind draws on<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the marshes, battle won,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knights' shouts, and axes hammering;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yea, quicker now the dint and ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of flying hoofs; ah, castellan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When they come back count man for man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Say whom you miss.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Pagans</span>, <i>from the battlements</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Mahound to aid!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why flee ye so like men dismay'd?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Pagans</span>, <i>from without</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Nay, haste! for here is Launcelot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who follows quick upon us, hot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shouting with his men-at-arms.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Guy.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Also the Pagans raise alarms,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ring the bells for fear; at last<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My prison walls will be well past.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Launcelot</span>, <i>from outside</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ho! in the name of the Trinity,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let down the drawbridge quick to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And open doors, that I may see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Guy the good knight!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Pagans</span>, <i>from the battlements</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Nay, Launcelot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With mere big words ye win us not.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Launcelot.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Bid Miles bring up la perriere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And archers clear the vile walls there.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bring back the notches to the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shoot well together! God to aid!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These miscreants will be well paid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Hurrah! all goes together; Miles<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is good to win my lady's smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For his good shooting: Launcelot!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On knights apace! this game is hot!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Guy</span> <i>sayeth afterwards</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I said, I go to meet her now,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And saying so, I felt a blow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From some clench'd hand across my brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fell down on the sunflowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just as a hammering smote my ears;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After which this I felt in sooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My bare hands throttling without ruth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hairy-throated castellan;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then a grim fight with those that ran<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To slay me, while I shouted: God<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the Lady Mary! deep I trod<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That evening in my own red blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nevertheless so stiff I stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That when the knights burst the old wood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the castle-doors, I was not dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">I kiss the Lady Mary's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her lips, and her hair golden red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because to-day we have been wed.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> +<h2>OLD LOVE</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">Y</span>OU must be very old, Sir Giles,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I said; he said: Yea, very old!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereat the mournfullest of smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Creased his dry skin with many a fold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They hammer'd out my basnet point<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into a round salade, he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The basnet being quite out of joint,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Natheless the salade rasps my head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He gazed at the great fire awhile:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you are getting old, Sir John;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(He said this with that cunning smile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was most sad) we both wear on;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knights come to court and look at me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With eyebrows up; except my lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my dear lady, none I see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That know the ways of my old sword.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">(My lady! at that word no pang<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stopp'd all my blood). But tell me, John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it quite true that Pagans hang<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So thick about the east, that on<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eastern sea no Venice flag<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can fly unpaid for? True, I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in such way the miscreants drag<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Christ's cross upon the ground, I dread<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Constantine must fall this year.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within my heart, these things are small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is not small, that things outwear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I thought were made for ever, yea, all,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All things go soon or late, I said.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw the duke in court next day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just as before, his grand great head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Above his gold robes dreaming lay,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only his face was paler; there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw his duchess sit by him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she, she was changed more; her hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before my eyes that used to swim,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And make me dizzy with great bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once, when I used to watch her sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hair is bright still, yet it is<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As though some dust were thrown on it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eyes are shallower, as though<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some grey glass were behind; her brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cheeks the straining bones show through,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are not so good for kissing now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lips are drier now she is<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A great duke's wife these many years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will not shudder with a kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As once they did, being moist with tears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Also her hands have lost that way<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of clinging that they used to have;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They look'd quite easy, as they lay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the silken cushions brave<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With broidery of the apples green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My Lord Duke bears upon his shield.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her face, alas! that I have seen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Look fresher than an April field,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is all gone now; gone also<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her tender walking; when she walks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is most queenly I well know,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she is fair still. As the stalks<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of faded summer-lilies are,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So is she grown now unto me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This spring-time, when the flowers star<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The meadows, birds sing wonderfully.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I warrant once she used to cling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About his neck, and kiss'd him so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then his coming step would ring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Joy-bells for her; some time ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! sometimes like an idle dream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That hinders true life overmuch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometimes like a lost heaven, these seem.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This love is not so hard to smutch.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GILLIFLOWER OF GOLD</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem20"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span> GOLDEN gilliflower to-day<br /></span> +<span class="id0">I wore upon my helm alway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And won the prize of this tourney.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">However well Sir Giles might sit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sun was weak to wither it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Miles's blood was dew on it:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Although my spear in splinters flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From John's steel-coat, my eye was true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wheel'd about, and cried for you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, do not doubt my heart was good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though my sword flew like rotten wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shout, although I scarcely stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My hand was steady too, to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My axe from round my neck, and break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">John's steel-coat up for my love's sake.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I stood in my tent again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arming afresh, I felt a pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take hold of me, I was so fain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To hear: <i>Honneur aux fils des preux!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right in my ears again, and shew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gilliflower blossom'd new.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Sieur Guillaume against me came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tabard bore three points of flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a red heart: with little blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our tough spears crackled up like straw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was the first to turn and draw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sword, that had nor speck nor flaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I felt weaker than a maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my brain, dizzied and afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within my helm a fierce tune play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until I thought of your dear head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd to the gilliflower bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yellow flowers stain'd with red;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Crash! how the swords met: <i>giroflée!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fierce tune in my helm would play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>La belle! la belle! jaune giroflée!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more the great swords met again:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>La belle! la belle!</i>" but who fell then?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Le Sieur Guillaume, who struck down ten;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as with mazed and unarm'd face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toward my own crown and the Queen's place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They led me at a gentle pace.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I almost saw your quiet head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd o'er the gilliflower bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yellow flowers stain'd with red.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflée.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> +<h2>SHAMEFUL DEATH</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">T</span>HERE were four of us about that bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The mass-priest knelt at the side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I and his mother stood at the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over his feet lay the bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We were quite sure that he was dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though his eyes were open wide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He did not die in the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He did not die in the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the morning twilight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His spirit pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When neither sun nor moon was bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the trees were merely grey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was not slain with the sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knight's axe, or the knightly spear,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Yet spoke he never a word<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After he came in here;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cut away the cord<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the neck of my brother dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He did not strike one blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the recreants came behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a place where the hornbeams grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A path right hard to find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the hornbeam boughs swing so,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That the twilight makes it blind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They lighted a great torch then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When his arms were pinion'd fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir John the knight of the Fen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Guy of the Dolorous Blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With knights threescore and ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hung brave Lord Hugh at last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am threescore and ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my hair is all turn'd grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I met Sir John of the Fen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Long ago on a summer day,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And am glad to think of the moment when<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I took his life away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am threescore and ten,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And my strength is mostly pass'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But long ago I and my men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the sky was overcast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the smoke roll'd over the reeds of the fen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Slew Guy of the Dolorous Blast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now, knights all of you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray you pray for Sir Hugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A good knight and a true,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for Alice, his wife, pray too.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE EVE OF CRECY</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">G</span>OLD on her head, and gold on her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a golden girdle round my sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Margaret's maids are fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freshly dress'd and pleasantly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Margaret's hair falls down to her knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I were rich I would kiss her feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would kiss the place where the gold hems meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the golden girdle round my sweet:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah me! I have never touch'd her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the arriere-ban goes through the land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six basnets under my pennon stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And many an one grins under his hood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Lambert du Bois, with all his men good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has neither food nor firewood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I were rich I would kiss her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the golden girdle of my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thereabouts where the gold hems meet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet even now it is good to think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While my few poor varlets grumble and drink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my desolate hall, where the fires sink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of Margaret sitting glorious there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In glory of gold and glory of hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glory of glorious face most fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Likewise to-night I make good cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because this battle draweth near:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what have I to lose or fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For, look you, my horse is good to prance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A right fair measure in this war-dance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the eyes of Philip of France;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And sometime it may hap, perdie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While my new towers stand up three and three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my hall gets painted fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That folks may say: Times change, by the rood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lambert, banneret of the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has heaps of food and firewood;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite;</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And wonderful eyes, too, under the hood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a damsel of right noble blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. Ives, for Lambert of the Wood!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE JUDGMENT OF GOD</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem30"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">S</span>WERVE to the left, son Roger, he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When you catch his eyes through the helmet-slit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swerve to the left, then out at his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Lord God give you joy of it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The blue owls on my father's hood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were a little dimm'd as I turn'd away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This giving up of blood for blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will finish here somehow to-day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, when I walk'd out from the tent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their howling almost blinded me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet for all that I was not bent<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By any shame. Hard by, the sea<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Made a noise like the aspens where<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We did that wrong, but now the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is very pleasant, and the air<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blows cool on any passer's face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all the wrong is gather'd now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into the circle of these lists:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, howl out, butchers! tell me how<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His hands were cut off at the wrists;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And how Lord Roger bore his face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A league above his spear-point, high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the owls, to that strong place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Among the waters; yea, yea, cry:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What a brave champion we have got!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Oliver, the flower of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hainault knights! The day being hot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He sat beneath a broad white pall,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">White linen over all his steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What a good knight he look'd! his sword<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid thwart his knees; he liked to feel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its steadfast edge clear as his word.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he look'd solemn; how his love<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smiled whitely on him, sick with fear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How all the ladies up above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twisted their pretty hands! so near<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fighting was: Ellayne! Ellayne!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They cannot love like you can, who<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would burn your hands off, if that pain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Could win a kiss; am I not true<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To you for ever? therefore I<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do not fear death or anything;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I should limp home wounded, why,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While I lay sick you would but sing,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And soothe me into quiet sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If they spat on the recreant knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Threw stones at him, and cursed him deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why then: what then? your hand would light<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So gently on his drawn-up face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you would kiss him, and in soft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cool scented clothes would lap him, pace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The quiet room and weep oft, oft<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would turn and smile, and brush his cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With your sweet chin and mouth; and in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The order'd garden you would seek<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The biggest roses: any sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And these say: No more now my knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or God's knight any longer: you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being than they so much more white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So much more pure and good and true,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will cling to me for ever; there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is not that wrong turn'd right at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all these years, and I wash'd clean?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Say, yea, Ellayne; the time is past,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since on that Christmas-day last year<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to your feet the fire crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the smoke through the brown leaves sere<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blinded your dear eyes that you wept;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was it not I that caught you then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kiss'd you on the saddle-bow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did not the blue owl mark the men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose spears stood like the corn a-row?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This Oliver is a right good knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And must needs beat me, as I fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless I catch him in the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My father's crafty way: John, here!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bring up the men from the south gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To help me if I fall or win,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For even if I beat, their hate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will grow to more than this mere grin.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LITTLE TOWER</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">U</span>P and away through the drifting rain!<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Let us ride to the Little Tower again,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up and away from the council board!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do on the hauberk, gird on the sword.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The king is blind with gnashing his teeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Change gilded scabbard to leather sheath:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though our arms are wet with the slanting rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is joy to ride to my love again:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I laugh in his face when he bids me yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows one field from the other field,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the grey rain driveth all astray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which way through the floods, good carle, I pray<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The left side yet! the left side yet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till your hand strikes on the bridge parapet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea so: the causeway holdeth good<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the water? Hard as wood,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right away to the uplands; speed, good knight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven hours yet before the light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shake the wet off on the upland road;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My tabard has grown a heavy load.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What matter? up and down hill after hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead grey night for five hours still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hill-road droppeth lower again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lower, down to the poplar plain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No furlong farther for us to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Little Tower draweth in sight;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They are ringing the bells, and the torches glare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore the roofs of wet slate stare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There she stands, and her yellow hair slantingly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drifts the same way that the rain goes by.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who will be faithful to us to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With little but hard glaive-strokes for pay?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The grim king fumes at the council-board:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three more days, and then the sword;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three more days, and my sword through his head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And above his white brows, pale and dead,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A paper crown on the top of the spire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for her the stake and the witches' fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therefore though it be long ere day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take axe and pick and spade, I pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Break the dams down all over the plain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God send us three more days such rain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Block all the upland roads with trees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Little Tower with no great ease<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is won, I warrant; bid them bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much sheep and oxen, everything<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The spits are wont to turn with; wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wheaten bread, that we may dine<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In plenty each day of the siege.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good friends, ye know me no hard liege;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My lady is right fair, see ye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray God to keep you frank and free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love Isabeau, keep goodly cheer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Little Tower will stand well here<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many a year when we are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over it our green and red,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Barred with the Lady's golden head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From mere old age when we are dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SAILING OF THE SWORD</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span>CROSS the empty garden-beds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarcely saw my sisters' heads<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bowed each beside a tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not see the castle leads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alicia wore a scarlet gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Ursula's was russet brown:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the mist we could not see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scarlet roofs of the good town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Green holly in Alicia's hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea;</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +<span class="i0">With sere oak-leaves did Ursula stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O! yet alas for me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I did but bear a peel'd white wand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, russet brown and scarlet bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sisters wore; I wore but white:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Red, brown, and white, are three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three damozels; each had a knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Robert shouted loud, and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alicia, while I see thy head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shall I bring for thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, my sweet Lord, a ruby red:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Miles said, while the sails hung down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, Ursula! while I see the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shall I bring for thee?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Dear knight, bring back a falcon brown:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But my Roland, no word he said<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword went out to sea,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But only turn'd away his head;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A quick shriek came from me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come back, dear lord, to your white maid.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The Sword went out to sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hot sun bit the garden-beds<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath an apple-tree our heads<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stretched out toward the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey gleam'd the thirsty castle-leads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Robert brought a ruby red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kissed Alicia on the head:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I am come back to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis time, sweet love, that we were wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Now the Sword is back from sea!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Miles he bore a falcon brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arms went round tall Ursula's gown:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What joy, O love, but thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us be wed in the good town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Now the Sword is back from sea!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My heart grew sick, no more afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the deck a tall white maid<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat on Lord Roland's knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His chin was press'd upon her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When the Sword came back from sea!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> +<h2>SPELL-BOUND</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">H</span>OW weary is it none can tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How dismally the days go by!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear the tinkling of the bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I see the cross against the sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The year wears round to Autumn-tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet comes no reaper to the corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden land is like a bride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When first she knows herself forlorn;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sits and weeps with all her hair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Laid downward over tender hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For stainèd silk she hath no care,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No care for broken ivory wands;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The silver cups beside her stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The golden stars on the blue roof<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet glitter, though against her hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His cold sword presses for a proof<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He is not dead, but gone away.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How many hours did she wait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me, I wonder? Till the day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had faded wholly, and the gate<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clanged to behind returning knights?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wonder did she raise her head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And go away, fleeing the lights;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay the samite on her bed,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wedding samite strewn with pearls:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then sit with hands laid on her knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddering at half-heard sound of girls<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That chatter outside in the breeze?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wonder did her poor heart throb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At distant tramp of coming knight?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How often did the choking sob<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Raise up her head and lips? The light,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did it come on her unawares,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And drag her sternly down before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">People who loved her not? in prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did she say one name and no more?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And once, all songs they ever sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All tales they ever told to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This only burden through them rung:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>O golden love that waitest me!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The days pass on, pass on apace,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Sometimes I have a little rest</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In fairest dreams, when on thy face</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>My lips lie, or thy hands are prest</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>About my forehead, and thy lips</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Draw near and nearer to mine own;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But when the vision from me slips,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>In colourless dawn I lie and moan,</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And wander forth with fever'd blood,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>That makes me start at little things,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The blackbird screaming from the wood,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The sudden whirr of pheasants' wings.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>O dearest, scarcely seen by me!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">But when that wild time had gone by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in these arms I folded thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who ever thought those days could die?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet now I wait, and you wait too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For what perchance may never come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You think I have forgotten you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That I grew tired and went home.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But what if some day as I stood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Against the wall with strainèd hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn'd my face toward the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Away from all the golden lands;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And saw you come with tired feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pale face thin and wan with care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stainèd raiment no more neat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white dust lying on your hair:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then I should say, I could not come;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This land was my wide prison, dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not choose but go; at home<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is a wizard whom I fear:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He bound me round with silken chains<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I could not break; he set me here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the golden-waving plains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where never reaper cometh near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And you have brought me my good sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherewith in happy days of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I won you well from knight and lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My heart upswells and I grow bold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I shall die unless you stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Half lying now, you are so weak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within my arms, unless your hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pass to and fro across my cheek.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WIND</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem35"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span>H! no, no, it is nothing, surely nothing at all,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Only the wild-going wind round by the garden-wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the dawn just now is breaking, the wind beginning to fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So I will sit, and think and think of the days gone by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never moving my chair for fear the dogs should cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making no noise at all while the flambeau burns awry.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For my chair is heavy and carved, and with sweeping green behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is hung, and the dragons thereon grin out in the gusts of the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On its folds an orange lies, with a deep gash cut in the rind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I move my chair it will scream, and the orange will roll out afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the faint yellow juice ooze out like blood from a wizard's jar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dogs will howl for those who went last month to the war.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So I will sit and think of love that is over and past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, so long ago! Yes, I will be quiet at last:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether I like it or not, a grim half-slumber is cast<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over my worn old brains, that touches the roots of my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And above my half-shut eyes, the blue roof 'gins to part,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And show the blue spring sky, till I am ready to start<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From out of the green-hung chair; but something keeps me still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I fall in a dream that I walk'd with her on the side of a hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dotted, for was it not spring? with tufts of the daffodil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Margaret as she walk'd held a painted book in her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her finger kept the place; I caught her, we both did stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Face to face, on the top of the highest hill in the land.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I held to her long bare arms, but she shudder'd away from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the flush went out of her face as her head fell back on a tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a spasm caught her mouth, fearful for me to see;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still I held to her arms till her shoulder touched my mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeping she totter'd forward, so glad that I should prevail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her hair went over my robe, like a gold flag over a sail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I kiss'd her hard by the ear, and she kiss'd me on the brow,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And then lay down on the grass, where the mark on the moss is now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spread her arms out wide while I went down below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then I walk'd for a space to and fro on the side of the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I gather'd and held in my arms great sheaves of the daffodil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when I came again my Margaret lay there still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I piled them high and high above her heaving breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How they were caught and held in her loose ungirded vest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one beneath her arm died, happy so to be prest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again I turn'd my back and went away for an hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said no word when I came again, so, flower by flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I counted the daffodils over, and cast them languidly lower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My dry hands shook and shook as the green gown show'd again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear'd from the yellow flowers, and I grew hollow with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on to us both there fell from the sun-shower drops of rain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! alas! there was blood on the very quiet breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood lay in the many folds of the loose ungirded vest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood lay upon her arm where the flower had been prest.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I shriek'd and leapt from my chair, and the orange roll'd out afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faint yellow juice oozed out like blood from a wizard's jar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then in march'd the ghosts of those that had gone to the war.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I knew them by the arms that I was used to paint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon their long thin shields; but the colours were all grown faint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faint upon their banner was Olaf, king and saint.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BLUE CLOSET</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem30"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Damozels.</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id4"><span class="dcap">L</span>ADY Alice, lady Louise,<br /></span> +<span class="id4">Between the wash of the tumbling seas<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We are ready to sing, if so ye please;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So lay your long hands on the keys;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Sing, <i>Laudate pueri</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And ever the great bell overhead</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Boom'd in the wind a knell for the dead,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Though no one toll'd it, a knell for the dead.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lady Louise.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Sister, let the measure swell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not too loud; for you sing not well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If you drown the faint boom of the bell;<br /></span> +<span class="i10">He is weary, so am I.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And ever the chevron overhead</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Flapped on the banner of the dead;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>(Was he asleep, or was he dead?)</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lady Alice.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Alice the Queen, and Louise the Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Two damozels wearing purple and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Four lone ladies dwelling here<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From day to day and year to year;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there is none to let us go;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To break the locks of the doors below,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or shovel away the heaped-up snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when we die no man will know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That we are dead; but they give us leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once every year on Christmas-eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To sing in the Closet Blue one song;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we should be so long, so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If we dared, in singing; for dream on dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They float on in a happy stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Float from the gold strings, float from the keys,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Float from the open'd lips of Louise;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, alas! the sea-salt oozes through<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The chinks of the tiles of the Closet Blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And ever the great bell overhead</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Booms in the wind a knell for the dead,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The wind plays on it a knell for the dead.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>They sing all together.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How long ago was it, how long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He came to this tower with hands full of snow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kneel down, O love Louise, kneel down! he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sprinkled the dusty snow over my head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He watch'd the snow melting, it ran through my hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ran over my shoulders, white shoulders and bare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I cannot weep for thee, poor love Louise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my tears are all hidden deep under the seas;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In a gold and blue casket she keeps all my tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my eyes are no longer blue, as in old years;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, they grow grey with time, grow small and dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am so feeble now, would I might die.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And in truth the great bell overhead</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Left off his pealing for the dead,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Perchance, because the wind was dead.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Will he come back again, or is he dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O! is he sleeping, my scarf round his head?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or did they strangle him as he lay there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the long scarlet scarf I used to wear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only I pray thee, Lord, let him come here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both his soul and his body to me are most dear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear Lord, that loves me, I wait to receive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either body or spirit this wild Christmas-eve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>Through the floor shot up a lily red,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With a patch of earth from the land of the dead,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>For he was strong in the land of the dead.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">What matter that his cheeks were pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">His kind kiss'd lips all grey?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O, love Louise, have you waited long?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">O, my lord Arthur, yea.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">What if his hair that brush'd her cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Was stiff with frozen rime?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His eyes were grown quite blue again,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">As in the happy time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O, love Louise, this is the key<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of the happy golden land!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O, sisters, cross the bridge with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">My eyes are full of sand.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What matter that I cannot see,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">If ye take me by the hand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2"><i>And ever the great bell overhead,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And the tumbling seas mourned for the dead;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>For their song ceased, and they were dead.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE TUNE OF SEVEN TOWERS</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id2"><span class="dcap">N</span>O one goes there now:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For what is left to fetch away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the desolate battlements all arow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the lead roof heavy and grey?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">No one walks there now;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Except in the white moonlight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white ghosts walk in a row;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">If one could see it, an awful sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Listen! said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But none can see them now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Though they sit by the side of the moat,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Feet half in the water, there in a row,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Long hair in the wind afloat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">If any will go to it now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He must go to it all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its gates will not open to any row<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of glittering spears: will <i>you</i> go alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Listen! said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">By my love go there now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To fetch me my coif away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My coif and my kirtle, with pearls arow,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oliver, go to-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I am unhappy now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I cannot tell you why;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If you go, the priests and I in a row<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Will pray that you may not die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Listen! said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">If you will go for me now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I will kiss your mouth at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">[<i>She sayeth inwardly.</i>]<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(<i>The graves stand grey in a row.</i>)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oliver, hold me fast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is the tune of Seven Towers.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> +<h2>GOLDEN WINGS</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">M</span>IDWAYS of a wallèd garden,<br /></span> +<span class="id2">In the happy poplar land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did an ancient castle stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an old knight for a warden.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many scarlet bricks there were<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In its walls, and old grey stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over which red apples shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the right time of the year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the bricks the green moss grew.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yellow lichen on the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over which red apples shone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little war that castle knew.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deep green water fill'd the moat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each side had a red-brick lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Green and mossy with the drip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dew and rain; there was a boat<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of carven wood, with hangings green<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About the stern; it was great bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For lovers to sit there and kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the hot summer noons, not seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Across the moat the fresh west wind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In very little ripples went;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The way the heavy aspens bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Towards it, was a thing to mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The painted drawbridge over it<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Went up and down with gilded chains,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas pleasant in the summer rains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the bridge-house there to sit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There were five swans that ne'er did eat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The water-weeds, for ladies came<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each day, and young knights did the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave them cakes and bread for meat.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They had a house of painted wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A red roof gold-spiked over it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wherein upon their eggs to sit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Week after week; no drop of blood,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Drawn from men's bodies by sword-blows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came ever there, or any tear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Most certainly from year to year<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas pleasant as a Provence rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The banners seem'd quite full of ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That over the turret-roofs hung down;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The battlements could get no frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the flower-moulded cornices.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who walked in that garden there?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Miles and Giles and Isabeau,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tall Jehane du Castel beau,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alice of the golden hair,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Big Sir Gervaise, the good knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Ellayne le Violet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mary, Constance fille de fay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many dames with footfall light.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whosoever wander'd there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whether it be dame or knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Half of scarlet, half of white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their raiment was; of roses fair<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each wore a garland on the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At Ladies' Gard the way was so:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Jehane du Castel beau<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wore her wreath till it was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little joy she had of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the raiment white and red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or the garland on her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She had none with whom to sit<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the carven boat at noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">None the more did Jehane weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She would only stand and keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying: He will be here soon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many times in the long day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Miles and Giles and Gervaise passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Holding each some white hand fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every time they heard her say:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Summer cometh to an end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Undern cometh after noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Golden wings will be here soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What if I some token send?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherefore that night within the hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With open mouth and open eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like some one listening with surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sat before the sight of all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stoop'd down a little she sat there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With neck stretch'd out and chin thrown up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One hand around a golden cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strangely with her fingers fair<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She beat some tune upon the gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The minstrels in the gallery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sung: Arthur, who will never die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Avallon he groweth old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when the song was ended, she<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose and caught up her gown and ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">None stopp'd her eager face and wan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that pleasant company.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right so within her own chamber<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon her bed she sat; and drew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her breath in quick gasps; till she knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That no man follow'd after her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took the garland from her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loosed all her hair, and let it lie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the coverlet; thereby<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She laid the gown of white and red;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she took off her scarlet shoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bared her feet; still more and more<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her sweet face redden'd; evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She murmur'd: He will be here soon;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Truly he cannot fail to know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My tender body waits him here;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And if he knows, I have no fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For poor Jehane du Castel beau.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She took a sword within her hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose hilts were silver, and she sung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Somehow like this, wild words that rung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long way over the moonlit land:<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grey light from tree to tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold hair beside my knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee come to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold wings!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The water slips,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The red-bill'd moorhen dips.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet kisses on red lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Alas! the red rust grips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the blood-red dagger rips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, O knight, come to me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Are not my blue eyes sweet?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The west wind from the wheat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Blows cold across my feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is it not time to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">White swans on the green moat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Small feathers left afloat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the blue-painted boat;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift running of the stoat,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet gurgling note by note<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sweet music.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">O gold wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Listen how gold hair sings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the Ladies Castle rings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I sit on a purple bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Outside, the wall is red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thereby the apple hangs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the wasp, caught by the fangs,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Dies in the autumn night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the bat flits till light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the love-crazèd knight<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Kisses the long wet grass:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The weary days pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Moonlight from tree to tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet hair laid on my knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, sweet knight, come to me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Gold wings, the short night slips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The white swan's long neck drips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pray thee kiss my lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gold wings across the sea!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No answer through the moonlit night;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No answer in the cold grey dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No answer when the shaven lawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew green, and all the roses bright.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her tired feet look'd cold and thin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her lips were twitch'd, and wretched tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some, as she lay, roll'd past her ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some fell from off her quivering chin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her long throat, stretched to its full length,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose up and fell right brokenly;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As though the unhappy heart was nigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Striving to break with all its strength.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when she slipp'd from off the bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her cramp'd feet would not hold her; she<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sank down and crept on hand and knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the window-sill she laid her head.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, with crooked arm upon the sill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She look'd out, muttering dismally:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is no sail upon the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pennon on the empty hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I cannot stay here all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or meet their happy faces here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And wretchedly I have no fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little while, and I am gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therewith she rose upon her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And totter'd; cold and misery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still made the deep sobs come, till she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last stretch'd out her fingers sweet,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And caught the great sword in her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, stealing down the silent stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Barefooted in the morning air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only in her smock, did stand<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upright upon the green lawn grass;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hope grew in her as she said:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have thrown off the white and red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pray God it may come to pass<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I meet him; if ten years go by<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before I meet him; if, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Meanwhile both soul and body bleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet there is end of misery,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I have hope. He could not come,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I can go to him and show<br /></span> +<span class="i2">These new things I have got to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make him speak, who has been dumb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Jehane! the red morning sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Changed her white feet to glowing gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon her smock, on crease and fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changed that to gold which had been dun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Miles, and Giles, and Isabeau,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fair Ellayne le Violet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mary, Constance fille de fay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is Jehane du Castel beau?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O big Gervaise ride apace!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Down to the hard yellow sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the water meets the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is Jehane by her face.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why has she a broken sword?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mary! she is slain outright;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Verily a piteous sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take her up without a word!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Giles and Miles and Gervaise there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ladies' Gard must meet the war;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whatsoever knights these are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man the walls withouten fear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Axes to the apple-trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Axes to the aspens tall!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Barriers without the wall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May be lightly made of these.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O poor shivering Isabeau;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poor Ellayne le Violet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bent with fear! we miss to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave Jehane du Castel beau.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O poor Mary, weeping so!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wretched Constance fille de fay!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Verily we miss to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Jehane du Castel beau.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The apples now grow green and sour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon the mouldering castle-wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before they ripen there they fall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are no banners on the tower,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The draggled swans most eagerly eat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The green weeds trailing in the moat;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Inside the rotting leaky boat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You see a slain man's stiffen'd feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">H</span>AD she come all the way for this,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">To part at last without a kiss?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, had she borne the dirt and rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That her own eyes might see him slain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the haystack in the floods?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the dripping leafless woods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stirrup touching either shoe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rode astride as troopers do;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With kirtle kilted to her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which the mud splash'd wretchedly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wet dripp'd from every tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon her head and heavy hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on her eyelids broad and fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears and rain ran down her face.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +<span class="i0">By fits and starts they rode apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And very often was his place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off from her; he had to ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ahead, to see what might betide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the roads cross'd; and sometimes, when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There rose a murmuring from his men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had to turn back with promises.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah me! she had but little ease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And often for pure doubt and dread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sobb'd, made giddy in the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the swift riding; while, for cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her slender fingers scarce could hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wet reins; yea, and scarcely, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She felt the foot within her shoe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the stirrup: all for this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To part at last without a kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the haystack in the floods.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For when they near'd that old soak'd hay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw across the only way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Judas, Godmar, and the three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red running lions dismally<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grinn'd from his pennon, under which<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one straight line along the ditch,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +<span class="i0">They counted thirty heads.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">So then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Robert turn'd round to his men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw at once the wretched end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, stooping down, tried hard to rend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her coif the wrong way from her head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hid her eyes; while Robert said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, love, 'tis scarcely two to one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Poictiers where we made them run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fast: why, sweet my love, good cheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gascon frontier is so near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought after this.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">But: O! she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My God! my God! I have to tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The long way back without you; then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The court at Paris; those six men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gratings of the Chatelet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swift Seine on some rainy day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like this, and people standing by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laughing, while my weak hands try<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To recollect how strong men swim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this, or else a life with him,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +<span class="i0">For which I should be damned at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would God that this next hour were past!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He answer'd not, but cried his cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. George for Marny! cheerily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid his hand upon her rein.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! no man of all his train<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave back that cheery cry again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, while for rage his thumb beat fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his sword-hilt, some one cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About his neck a kerchief long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bound him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Then they went along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Godmar; who said: Now, Jehane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your lover's life is on the wane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fast, that, if this very hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You yield not as my paramour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He will not see the rain leave off:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, keep your tongue from gibe and scoff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Robert, or I slay you now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She laid her hand upon her brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then gazed upon the palm, as though<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +<span class="i0">She thought her forehead bled, and: No!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said, and turn'd her head away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As there were nothing else to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And everything were settled: red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew Godmar's face from chin to head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jehane, on yonder hill there stands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My castle, guarding well my lands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hinders me from taking you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And doing that I list to do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your fair wilful body, while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your knight lies dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">A wicked smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrinkled her face, her lips grew thin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A long way out she thrust her chin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know that I should strangle you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While you were sleeping; or bite through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your throat, by God's help: ah! she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Jesus, pity your poor maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in such wise they hem me in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot choose but sin and sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever happens: yet I think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They could not make me eat or drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so should I just reach my rest.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, if you do not my behest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Jehane! though I love you well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Godmar, would I fail to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that I know? Foul lies, she said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh? lies, my Jehane? by God's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Paris folks would deem them true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you know, Jehane, they cry for you:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jehane the brown! Jehane the brown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give us Jehane to burn or drown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eh! gag me Robert! Sweet my friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This were indeed a piteous end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those long fingers, and long feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long neck, and smooth shoulders sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An end that few men would forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That saw it. So, an hour yet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consider, Jehane, which to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life or death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">So, scarce awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismounting, did she leave that place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And totter some yards: with her face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd upward to the sky she lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her head on a wet heap of hay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fell asleep: and while she slept,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And did not dream, the minutes crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round to the twelve again; but she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Being waked at last, sigh'd quietly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strangely childlike came, and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not. Straightway Godmar's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though it hung on strong wires, turn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most sharply round, and his face burn'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Robert, both his eyes were dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He could not weep, but gloomily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seem'd to watch the rain; yea, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lips were firm; he tried once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To touch her lips; she reached out, sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vain desire so tortured them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poor grey lips, and now the hem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his sleeve brush'd them.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">With a start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up Godmar rose, thrust them apart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Robert's throat he loosed the bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of silk and mail; with empty hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Held out, she stood and gazed, and saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The long bright blade without a flaw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide out from Godmar's sheath, his hand<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In Robert's hair; she saw him bend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back Robert's head; she saw him send<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thin steel down; the blow told well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right backward the knight Robert fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And moaned as dogs do, being half dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwitting, as I deem: so then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Godmar turn'd grinning to his men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who ran, some five or six, and beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His head to pieces at their feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Godmar turn'd again and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, Jehane, the first fitte is read!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take note, my lady, that your way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies backward to the Chatelet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She shook her head and gazed awhile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At her cold hands with a rueful smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though this thing had made her mad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This was the parting that they had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the haystack in the floods.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> +<h2>TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">T</span>HERE was a lady lived in a hall,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Large of her eyes, and slim and tall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever she sung from noon to noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was a knight came riding by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In early spring, when the roads were dry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he heard that lady sing at the noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet none the more he stopp'd at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he rode a-gallop past the hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left that lady singing at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because, forsooth, the battle was set,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the scarlet and blue had got to be met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rode on the spur till the next warm noon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the battle was scatter'd from hill to hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the windmill to the watermill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he said to himself, as it near'd the noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You scarce could see for the scarlet and blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A golden helm or a golden shoe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So he cried, as the fight grew thick at the noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Verily then the gold bore through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The huddled spears of the scarlet and blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they cried, as they cut them down at the noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I trow he stopp'd when he rode again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the hall, though draggled sore with the rain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his lips were pinch'd to kiss at the noon<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the may she stoop'd to the crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All was gold, there was nothing of brown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the horns blew up in the hall at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Two red roses across the moon.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> +<h2>WELLAND RIVER</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">F</span>AIR Ellayne she walk'd by Welland river,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Across the lily lee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, gentle Sir Robert, ye are not kind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stay so long at sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the marshland none can see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your scarlet pennon fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, leave the Easterlings alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because of my golden hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The day when over Stamford bridge<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That dear pennon I see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go up toward the goodly street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be a fair day for me.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, let the bonny pennon bide<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At Stamford, the good town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let the Easterlings go free,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And their ships go up and down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For every day that passes by<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wax both pale and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From gold to gold of my girdle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There is an inch between.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sew'd it up with scarlet silk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Last night upon my knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart grew sad and sore to think<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy face I'd never see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sew'd it up with scarlet silk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I lay upon my bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow! the man I'll never see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That had my maidenhead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But as Ellayne sat on her window-seat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And comb'd her yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw come over Stamford bridge<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The scarlet pennon fair.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As Ellayne lay and sicken'd sore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gold shoes on her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw Sir Robert and his men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ride up the Stamford street.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had a coat of fine red gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a bascinet of steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take note his goodly Collayne sword<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smote the spur upon his heel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by his side, on a grey jennet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There rode a fair lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every ruby Ellayne wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I count she carried three.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say, was not Ellayne's gold hair fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That fell to her middle free?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that lady's hair down in the street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell lower than her knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair Ellayne's face, from sorrow and grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was waxen pale and green:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lady's face was goodly red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She had but little tene.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But as he pass'd by her window<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He grew a little wroth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, why does yon pale face look at me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From out the golden cloth?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is some burd, the fair dame said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That aye rode him beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has come to see your bonny face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This merry summer-tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Ellayne let a lily-flower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Light on his cap of steel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, I have gotten two hounds, fair knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The one has served me well;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the other, just an hour agone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has come from over sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all his fell is sleek and fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But little he knows of me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, which shall I let go, fair knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And which shall bide with me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, lady, have no doubt to keep<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The one that best loveth thee.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, Robert, see how sick I am!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye do not so by me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie still, fair love, have ye gotten harm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While I was on the sea?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of one gift, Robert, that ye gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I sicken to the death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pray you nurse-tend me, my knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whiles that I have my breath.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six fathoms from the Stamford bridge<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He left that dame to stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whiles she wept, and whiles she cursed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That she ever had taken land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He has kiss'd sweet Ellayne on the mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fair she fell asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long and long days after that<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Robert's house she did keep.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> +<h2>RIDING TOGETHER</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">F</span>OR many, many days together<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind blew steady from the East;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For many days hot grew the weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About the time of our Lady's Feast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For many days we rode together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet met we neither friend nor foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hotter and clearer grew the weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Steadily did the East wind blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clear-cut, with shadows very black,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As freely we rode on together<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With helms unlaced and bridles slack.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And often as we rode together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We, looking down the green-bank'd stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw flowers in the sunny weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And saw the bubble-making bream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the night lay down together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hung above our heads the rood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The while the moon did watch the wood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our spears stood bright and thick together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Straight out the banners stream'd behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With faces turn'd towards the wind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down sank our threescore spears together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thick we saw the pagans ride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eager face in the clear fresh weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone out that last time by my side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down rain'd the buds of the dear spring weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The elm-tree flowers fell like tears.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, as we roll'd and writhed together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I threw my arms above my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For close by my side, in the lovely weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I saw him reel and fall back dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I and the slayer met together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He waited the death-stroke there in his place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gapingly mazed at my madden'd face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Madly I fought as we fought together;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In vain: the little Christian band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pagans drown'd, as in stormy weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The river drowns low-lying land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They bound my blood-stain'd hands together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They bound his corpse to nod by my side:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then on we rode, in the bright March weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With clash of cymbals did we ride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We ride no more, no more together;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My prison-bars are thick and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I take no heed of any weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sweet Saints grant I live not long.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<h2>FATHER JOHN'S WAR-SONG</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Reapers.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">S</span>O many reapers, Father John,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">So many reapers and no little son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meet you when the day is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With little stiff legs to waddle and run?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray you beg, borrow, or steal one son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurrah for the corn-sheaves of Father John!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Father John.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O maiden Mary, be wary, be wary!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And go not down to the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest the kingfisher, your evil wisher,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lure you down to the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest your white feet grow muddy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your red hair too ruddy<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +<span class="i0">With the river-mud so red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when you are wed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go down to the river.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O maiden Mary, be very wary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dwell among the corn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, this dame Alice, maiden Mary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hair is thin and white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she is a housewife good and wary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a great steel key hangs bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her gown, as red as the flowers in corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is good and old like the autumn corn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Maiden Mary.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is knight Roland, Father John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stark in his arms from a field half-won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask him if he has seen your son:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roland, lay your sword on the corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The piled-up sheaves of the golden corn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Knight Roland.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why does she kiss me, Father John?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is my true love truly won!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under my helm is room for one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the molten lead-streams trickle and run<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +<span class="i0">From my roof-tree, burning under the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No corn to burn, we had eaten the corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was no waste of the golden corn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Father John.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ho, you reapers, away from the corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To march with the banner of Father John!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Reapers.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We will win a house for Roland his son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for maiden Mary with hair like corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As red as the reddest of golden corn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father John, you have got a son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven feet high when his helm is on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pennon of Roland, banner of John,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Star of Mary, march well on.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> +<h2>SIR GILES' WAR-SONG</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id2"><i><span class="dcap">H</span>O! is there any will ride with me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sir Giles, le bon des barrières?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The clink of arms is good to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flap of pennons fair to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ho! is there any will ride with me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sir Giles, le bon des barrières?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The leopards and lilies are fair to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">St. George Guienne! right good to hear:<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ho! is there any will ride with me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sir Giles, le bon des barrières?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I stood by the barrier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My coat being blazon'd fair to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Ho! is there any will ride with me,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sir Giles, le bon des barrières?</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clisson put out his head to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lifted his basnet up to hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pull'd him through the bars to <span class="smcap">me</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Sir Giles; le bon des barrières.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> +<h2>NEAR AVALON</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem22"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">A</span> SHIP with shields before the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Six maidens round the mast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A red-gold crown on every one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A green gown on the last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fluttering green banners there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are wrought with ladies' heads most fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a portraiture of Guenevere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The middle of each sail doth bear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A ship which sails before the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the helm six knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their heaumes are on, whereby, half blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They pass by many sights.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tatter'd scarlet banners there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right soon will leave the spear-heads bare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those six knights sorrowfully bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all their heaumes some yellow hair.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> +<h2>PRAISE OF MY LADY</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">M</span>Y lady seems of ivory<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Forehead, straight nose, and cheeks that be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hollow'd a little mournfully.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her forehead, overshadow'd much<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By bows of hair, has a wave such<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As God was good to make for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not greatly long my lady's hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yet with yellow colour fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thick and crispèd wonderfully:<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heavy to make the pale face sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark, but dead as though it had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Been forged by God most wonderfully<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of some strange metal, thread by thread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stand out from my lady's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not moving much to tangle me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath her brows the lids fall slow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lashes a clear shadow throw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I would wish my lips to be.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her great eyes, standing far apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draw up some memory from her heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gaze out very mournfully;<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So beautiful and kind they are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most times looking out afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waiting for something, not for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wonder if the lashes long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are those that do her bright eyes wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For always half tears seem to be<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lurking below the underlid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkening the place where they lie hid:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If they should rise and flow for me!<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her full lips being made to kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curl'd up and pensive each one is;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This makes me faint to stand and see.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lips are not contented now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because the hours pass so slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Towards a sweet time: (pray for me),<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, hold thy peace! for who can tell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this at least I know full well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lips are parted longingly,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So passionate and swift to move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pluck at any flying love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I grow faint to stand and see.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea! there beneath them is her chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fine and round, it were a sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feel no weaker when I see<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God's dealings; for with so much care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And troublous, faint lines wrought in there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He finishes her face for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of her long neck what shall I say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What things about her body's sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a knight's pennon or slim tree<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Set gently waving in the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or her long hands that I may find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On some day sweet to move o'er me?<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God pity me though, if I miss'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The telling, how along her wrist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The veins creep, dying languidly<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Inside her tender palm and thin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now give me pardon, dear, wherein<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My voice is weak and vexes thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All men that see her any time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I charge you straightly in this rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, and wherever you may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To kneel before her; as for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I choke and grow quite faint to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lady moving graciously.<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Beata mea Domina!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> +<h2>SUMMER DAWN</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem30"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">P</span>RAY but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Think but one thought of me up in the stars.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The summer night waneth, the morning light slips,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Faint and grey 'twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt the cloud-bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That are patiently waiting there for the dawn:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits to float through them along with the sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far out in the meadows, above the young corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The uneasy wind rises; the roses are dun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They pray the long gloom through for daylight new born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the lone house in the midst of the corn.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speak but one word to me over the corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN PRISON</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem15"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="id0"><span class="dcap">W</span>EARILY, drearily,<br /></span> +<span class="id0">Half the day long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flap the great banners<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High over the stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strangely and eerily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds the wind's song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending the banner-poles.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While, all alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching the loophole's spark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie I, with life all dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feet tether'd, hands fetter'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast to the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grim walls, square letter'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With prison'd men's groan.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still strain the banner-poles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the wind's song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Westward the banner rolls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my wrong.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<p class="theend">THE END</p> + + +<p class="center"> +Printed by <span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.</span><br /> +Edinburgh & London</p> + + +<div class="trans1"><p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> + +<p>Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without +note, whilst archaic spellings have been retained.</p> + +<p>Many single- and double-quotation marks were omitted in the original +publication. Logical corrections, made from this text alone, would +only compound any discrepancies and therefore such punctuation +remains as printed.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Defence of Guenevere and Other +Poems, by William Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE *** + +***** This file should be named 22650-h.htm or 22650-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/5/22650/ + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Stephen Blundell and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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