Andromeda and Other Poems Part 4

SCOTCH SONG

Oh, forth she went like a braw, braw bride To meet her winsome groom, When she was aware of twa bonny birds Sat biggin' in the broom.

The tane it built with the green, green moss, But and the bents sae fine, And the t.i.ther wi' a lock o' lady's hair Linked up wi' siller twine.

'O whaur gat ye the green, green moss, O whaur the bents sae fine?

And whaur gat ye the bonny broun hair That ance was tress o' mine?'

'We gat the moss fra' the elditch aile, The bents fra' the whinny muir, And a fause knight threw us the bonny broun hair, To please his braw new fere.'

'Gae pull, gae pull the simmer leaves, And strew them saft o'er me; My token's tint, my love is fause, I'll lay me doon and dee.'

1847.

THE YOUNG KNIGHT: A PARABLE

A gay young knight in Burley stood, Beside him pawed his steed so good, His hands he wrung as he were wood With waiting for his love O!

'Oh, will she come, or will she stay, Or will she waste the weary day With fools who wish her far away, And hate her for her love O?'

But by there came a mighty boar, His jowl and tushes red with gore, And on his curled snout he bore A bracelet rich and rare O!

The knight he shrieked, he ran, he flew, He searched the wild wood through and through, But found nought save a mantle blue, Low rolled within the brake O!

He twined the wild briar, red and white, Upon his head the garland dight, The green leaves withered black as night, And burnt into his brain O!

A fire blazed up within his breast, He mounted on an aimless quest, He laid his virgin lance in rest, And through the forest drove O!

By Rhinefield and by Osmondsleigh, Through leat and furze brake fast drove he, Until he saw the homeless sea, That called with all its waves O!

He laughed aloud to hear the roar, And rushed his horse adown the sh.o.r.e, The deep surge rolled him o'er and o'er, And swept him down the tide O!

New Forest, July 12, 1847.

A NEW FOREST BALLAD

Oh she tripped over Ocknell plain, And down by Bradley Water; And the fairest maid on the forest side Was Jane, the keeper's daughter.

She went and went through the broad gray lawns As down the red sun sank, And chill as the scent of a new-made grave The mist smelt cold and dank.

'A token, a token!' that fair maid cried, 'A token that bodes me sorrow; For they that smell the grave by night Will see the corpse to-morrow.

'My own true love in Burley Walk Does hunt to-night, I fear; And if he meet my father stern, His game may cost him dear.

'Ah, here's a curse on hare and grouse, A curse on hart and hind; And a health to the squire in all England, Leaves never a head behind.'

Her true love shot a mighty hart Among the standing rye, When on him leapt that keeper old From the fern where he did lie.

The forest laws were sharp and stern, The forest blood was keen; They lashed together for life and death Beneath the hollies green.

The metal good and the walnut wood Did soon in flinders flee; They tost the orts to south and north, And grappled knee to knee.

They wrestled up, they wrestled down, They wrestled still and sore; Beneath their feet the myrtle sweet Was stamped to mud and gore.

Ah, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon, That starest with never a frown On all the grim and the ghastly things That are wrought in thorpe and town:

And yet, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon, That night hadst never the grace To lighten two dying Christian men To see one another's face.

They wrestled up, they wrestled down, They wrestled sore and still, The fiend who blinds the eyes of men That night he had his will.

Like stags full spent, among the bent They dropped a while to rest; When the young man drove his saying knife Deep in the old man's breast.

The old man drove his gunstock down Upon the young man's head; And side by side, by the water brown, Those yeomen twain lay dead.

They dug three graves in Lyndhurst yard; They dug them side by side; Two yeomen lie there, and a maiden fair A widow and never a bride.

In the New Forest, 1847.

THE RED KING

The King was drinking in Malwood Hall, There came in a monk before them all: He thrust by squire, he thrust by knight, Stood over against the dais aright; And, 'The word of the Lord, thou cruel Red King, The word of the Lord to thee I bring.

A grimly sweven I dreamt yestreen; I saw thee lie under the hollins green, And through thine heart an arrow keen; And out of thy body a smoke did rise, Which smirched the sunshine out of the skies: So if thou G.o.d's anointed be I rede thee unto thy soul thou see.

For mitre and pall thou hast y-sold, False knight to Christ, for gain and gold; And for this thy forest were digged down all, Steading and hamlet and churches tall; And Christes poor were ousten forth, To beg their bread from south to north.

So tarry at home, and fast and pray, Lest fiends hunt thee in the judgment-day.'

The monk he vanished where he stood; King William sterte up wroth and wood; Quod he, 'Fools' wits will jump together; The Hampshire ale and the thunder weather Have turned the brains for us both, I think; And monks are curst when they fall to drink.

A lothly sweven I dreamt last night, How there hoved anigh me a griesly knight, Did smite me down to the pit of h.e.l.l; I shrieked and woke, so fast I fell.

There's Tyrrel as sour as I, perdie, So he of you all shall hunt with me; A grimly brace for a hart to see.'

The Red King down from Malwood came; His heart with wine was all aflame, His eyne were shotten, red as blood, He rated and swore, wherever he rode.

They roused a hart, that grimly brace, A hart of ten, a hart of grease, Fled over against the kinges place.

The sun it blinded the kinges ee, A fathom behind his hocks shot he: 'Shoot thou,' quod he, 'in the fiendes name, To lose such a quarry were seven years' shame.'