Poems and Romances :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Soldan's daughter of Babylon
Went out to pluck her roses
Where scents are shed from an alley dun,
As starry even closes;
As she passed out into the clear moonlight,
She saw on the sward a Christian knight.

The moon shone clear on his toilworn hands,
On his face unkempt and pale,
On the rusty links and the caitiff bands
Which he wore for knightly mail;
But his brow was high, and his dreams seemed fair,
As the night wind lifted his yellow hair.

The Soldan's daughter dared not stay,
She was watched by too many eyes;
But she dropt a rose and a scroll to say,
“A word is enough for the wise.”
And she came with the morning light alone
To hear the prisoner make his moan.

“Mahound be merciful to thee,
That thou mayest take our law,”
She said. “In sooth it pitied me
When all thy pain I saw;
My father would set thee in high estate,
And give thee a beautiful maid to mate.”

Thereat he louted on knee full low,
Said, “Mary pity thee,
And give thee grace her Son to know,
For thy great courtesie.”
She said, “I have found God very good,—
The river is parched when it leaves the wood.”

He said, “The rivers flow into the sea,
And true hearts into Christendom;
Flee hence for the love of Christ with me.”
She said, “For thy love I will come.”

They loosed a boat on the river that night,
And floated adown the soft moonlight.

They had floated a mile among the reeds,
As he cooled his hand in the water,
When they heard behind them a tramp of steeds,
For the Soldan had missed his daughter.
He spurred out into the river amain,
He waved his spear to his panting train.

He laid on the boat a mailèd hand,
The boat rocked to and fro,
Cried, “Caitiff and craven, turn and stand,
Thou shalt not carry it so;
To steal a maid from her father's land.”
She said, “I chose to go.”
The Red-cross Knight leaned out of the boat,
He caught at the long white beard, and smote
With his gardening knife on the Soldan's throat;

Said, “There is a miscreant gone to hell,
And now our love is free,
And you shall be baptized, and dwell
With me in Christentie.”

The lady answered, “He loved me well,—
Is it all an evil dream?”
The charger started, the dead man fell,
He floated down the stream:
The knight rose softly and spread a sail,
And they floated on till the stars grew pale.

II.

They sailed by river, they sailed by sea,
And the knight was blithe of cheer,
As he saw the hills of Christentie
And the holy shrines appear;
But the lady lay on his breast in pain,
Said, “I shall not see my garden again.”

And now they have furled their sail at last,
And anchored in the bay;
Then hand in hand to the church they passed
Of the nuns who walk in grey.
He said, “They will wash your spirit clean,
And then I can wed you, my own heart's queen.”

“Oh, why are you shorn, lady abbess?” she said,
“And why do you walk in grey?

And you are fair, yet you are not wed,—
Is your true knight far away?”
“We are wed to a Spouse Who dwells afar,
Who hath built us a bower in the Morning Star.”

“And what is His name, lady abbess?” she said;
“And why has He left you here?
And why has He bidden you bow the head,
And made your life so drear?”
“We are God's brides, Who died for us,
And till we die we serve Him thus.”

“What a cruel God to use you so!
What a foolish God to die!—
Without dying He made the sweet flowers blow,
And the bright sun shine in the sky.”
“But we are more than flower or sun,
Our life begins when theirs is done.”

“But still you are little to God,” she said;
“And why need He die for you?
He surely is mighty to raise the dead,
Without His dying too.”
“He died to be wholly one with us,
So dying daily we serve Him thus.”

“And He died for all the world, you say;
Did He die for my father and me?
For I left my father far away,
Before I crossed the sea;
My love smote sore, and my father is dead,
For he followed us close the night we fled.”

“Yes, He died for both,” the Abbess said,
“And His love will make you whole,
And remember to pray when you are wed,
And give alms for your father's soul,
That Mary's prayer and Jesus' grace
May lighten his spirit's dwelling-place.”

“And how did He woo you to be His bride,
What gifts did He give to you?”
She caught her breath, and she blushed and sighed,
“I wish He would woo me too;
I would pray for my father, and God would hear;
He would surely answer His bride's first prayer.”

“He wooed me as He woos you now,
By my own heart's desire;
He plaited thorns about my brow,
And set my heart on fire;

But can you leave your own true knight,
Who brought you from darkness to God's good light?”

Her true knight stood at the convent grate,
And he pressed her lily hand;
He said, “It is not yet too late,
She does not understand;
Leave her awhile alone with me.”
The Abbess answered, “She is free.”

He said, “Remember, you loved me well,
And how when I wooed you to flee;
You came not caring for heaven or hell,
Came not for Christ but me.”
“That was very long ago,” she said.
“My garden is withered, my father is dead.”

“We sing full long, and we fast full late,
And our times of prayer are seven,”
The Abbess said, as she shut the grate.
“Would you shut me out of heaven?”
“Can you give yourself to be crucified
For a single kiss at your Husband's side?”

“I do not know, but take me in,
He is all that is left me now.
I feel the blood from His hands begin
To tingle upon my brow.”
They took her in, and she bowed the head;
In a year and a day her pure soul fled,
As she spake her marriage vow.

As she passed in, a novice peeped out
From under her veil of white,
And her blue eyes, as they roved about,
Met the eyes of the Red-cross Knight.
She said, “It were merry to be with him;”
He said, “She is bright, the cloister dim.”

So the Red-cross Knight and the novice were wed,
And they sailed across the sea;
And they sailed past the realm of Babylon,
And he set up his banner on Lebanon
To harry Soldanrie,
From a castle, where mass was never said,
Far beyond Christentie.