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His n.o.bles are beaten, one by one; (Hurry!) They have fainted, and faltered, and homeward gone; His little fair page now follows alone, For strength and for courage trying!
The king looked back at that faithful child; Wan was the face that answering smiled; They pa.s.sed the drawbridge with clattering din, Then he dropped; and only the king rode in Where his rose of the isles lay dying!
The king blew a blast on his bugle horn; (Silence!) No answer came; but faint and forlorn An echo returned on the cold gray morn, Like the breath of a spirit sighing.
The castle portal stood grimly wide; None welcomed the king from that weary ride; For dead, in the light of the dawning day, The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay, Who had yearned for his voice while dying!
The panting steed, with a drooping crest, Stood weary.
The king returned from her chamber of rest, The thick sobs choking in his breast; And, that dumb companion eyeing, The tears gushed forth which he strove to check; He bowed his head on his charger's neck: "O steed, that every nerve didst strain, Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain To the halls where my love lay dying!"
Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton [1808-1870]
THE WATCHER
A rose for a young head, A ring for a bride, Joy for the homestead Clean and wide-- Who's that waiting In the rain outside?
A heart for an old friend, A hand for the new: Love can to earth lend Heaven's hue-- Who's that standing In the silver dew?
A smile for the parting, A tear as they go, G.o.d's sweethearting Ends just so-- Who's that watching Where the black winds blow?
He who is waiting In the rain outside, He who is standing Where the dew drops wide, He who is watching In the wind must ride (Though the pale hands cling) With the rose And the ring And the bride, Must ride With the red of the rose, And the gold of the ring, And the lips and the hair of the bride.
James Stephens [1882-
THE THREE SISTERS
Gone are those three, those sisters rare With wonder-lips and eyes ashine.
One was wise and one was fair, And one was mine.
Ye mourners, weave for the sleeping hair Of only two your ivy vine.
For one was wise and one was fair, But one was mine.
Arthur Davison Ficke [1883-
BALLAD
He said: "The shadows darken down, The night is near at hand.
Now who's the friend will follow me Into the sunless land?
"For I have va.s.sals leal and true, And I have comrades kind, And wheresoe'er my soul shall speed, They will not stay behind."
He sought the brother young and blithe Who bore his spear and shield: "In the long chase you've followed me, And in the battle-field.
"Few vows you make; but true's your heart, And you with me will win."
He said: "G.o.d speed you, brother mine, But I am next of kin."
He sought the friar, the gray old priest Who loved his father's board.
The friar he turned him to the east And reverently adored.
He said: "A G.o.dless name you bear, A G.o.dless life you've led, And whoso wins along with you, His spirit shall have dread.
"Oh, hasten, get your guilty soul From every burden shriven; Yet you are bound for flame and dole, But I am bound for heaven."
He sought the lady bright and proud, Who sate at his right hand: "Make haste, O Love, to follow me Into the sunless land."
She said: "And pa.s.s you in your prime?
Heaven give me days of cheer!
And keep me from the sunless clime Many and many a year."
All heavily the sun sank down Among black clouds of fate.
There came a woman fair and wan Unto the castle gate.
Through gazing va.s.sals, idle serfs, So silently she sped!
The winding staircase echoed not Unto her light, light tread.
His lady eyed her scornfully.
She stood at his right hand; She said: "And I will follow you Into the sunless land.
"There is no expiation, none.
A bitter load I bore: Now I shall love you nevermore, Never and nevermore.
"There is no touch or tone of yours Can make the old love wake."
She said: "But I will follow you, Even for the old love's sake."
Oh, he has kissed her on the brow, He took her by the hand: Into the sunless land they went, Into the starless land.
May Kendall [1861-
"O THAT 'TWERE POSSIBLE"
From "Maud"
O that 'twere possible After long grief and pain To find the arms of my true love Round me once again!
When I was wont to meet her In the silent moody places Of the land that gave me birth, We stood tranced in long embraces Mixed with kisses sweeter, sweeter Than anything on earth.
A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee.
Ah, Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be!
Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892]