Poems By the Way Part 14

When Maltete did this carle behold Somewhat he doubted of his gold, But cried out, "Where is now thy store Thou hast through books of wicked lore?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

Then said the poor man, right humbly, "Fair lord, this was not made by me, I found it in mine own dry well, And had a mind thy grace to tell.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"Therefrom, my lord, a cup I took This day, that thou thereon mightst look, And know me to be leal and true,"

And from his coat the cup he drew.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

Then Maltete took it in his hand, Nor knew he ought that it used to stand On Boncoeur's cupboard many a day.

"Go on," he said, "and show the way.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"Give me thy gold, and thou shalt live, Yea, in my house thou well mayst thrive."

John turned about and 'gan to go Unto the wood with footsteps slow.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

But as they pa.s.sed by John's woodstack, Growled Maltete, "Nothing now doth lack Wherewith to light a merry fire, And give my wizard all his hire."

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

The western sky was red as blood, Darker grew the oaken-wood; "Thief and carle, where are ye gone?

Why are we in the wood alone?

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"What is the sound of this mighty horn?

Ah, G.o.d! that ever I was born!

The basnets flash from tree to tree; Show me, thou Christ, the way to flee!"

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

Boncoeur it was with fifty men; Maltete was but one to ten, And his own folk prayed for grace, With empty hands in that lone place.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"Grace shall ye have," Boncoeur said, "All of you but Evil-head."

Lowly could that great lord be, Who could pray so well as he?

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

Then could Maltete howl and cry, Little will he had to die.

Soft was his speech, now it was late, But who had will to save Maltete?

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

They brought him to the house again, And toward the road he looked in vain.

Lonely and bare was the great highway, Under the gathering moonlight grey.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

They took off his gilt basnet, That he should die there was no let; They took off his coat of steel, A d.a.m.ned man he well might feel.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"Will ye all be rich as kings, Lacking naught of all good things?"

"Nothing do we lack this eve; When thou art dead, how can we grieve?"

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

"Let me drink water ere I die, None henceforth comes my lips anigh."

They brought it him in that bowl of wood.

He said, "This is but poor men's blood!"

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

They brought it him in the cup of gold.

He said, "The women I have sold Have wept it full of salt for me; I shall die gaping thirstily."

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

On the threshold of that poor homestead They smote off his evil head; They set it high on a great spear, And rode away with merry cheer.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

At the dawn, in lordly state, They rode to Maltete's castle-gate.

"Whoso willeth laud to win, Make haste to let your masters in!"

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

Forthwith opened they the gate, No man was sorry for Maltete.

Boncoeur conquered all his lands, A good knight was he of his hands.

_Dens est Deus pauperum_.

Good men he loved, and hated bad; Joyful days and sweet he had; Good deeds did he plenteously; Beneath him folk lived frank and free.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

He lived long, with merry days; None said aught of him but praise.

G.o.d on him have full mercy; A good knight merciful was he.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

The great lord, called Maltete, is dead; Gra.s.s grows above his feet and head, And a holly-bush grows up between His rib-bones gotten white and clean.

_Deus est Deus pauperum_.

A carle's sheep-dog certainly Is a mightier thing than he.

Till London-bridge shall cross the Nen, Take we heed of such-like men.

_Dens est Deus pauperum_.

LOVE'S REWARD.

It was a knight of the southern land Rode forth upon the way When the birds sang sweet on either hand About the middle of the May.

But when he came to the lily-close, Thereby so fair a maiden stood, That neither the lily nor the rose Seemed any longer fair nor good.