 | Complete works (1925-27) |  |
51
II. [VOL. II]
THE TWO KNIGHTS
Two knights rode on along the dark,
Quietly, without word;
By lawn and copse, by pale and park,
With hands on rein and sword;
And ever one would lean to mark
If aught beyond them stirred.
Quietly, without word;
By lawn and copse, by pale and park,
With hands on rein and sword;
And ever one would lean to mark
If aught beyond them stirred.
The sea had wailed itself to sleep
Through cloud and blurrèd fire,
The sad moon seemed to shiver and weep
Like a thin face; but higher
Pure midnight made the stars seem deep
Fierce eyes of wide desire.
Through cloud and blurrèd fire,
The sad moon seemed to shiver and weep
Like a thin face; but higher
Pure midnight made the stars seem deep
Fierce eyes of wide desire.
The ragged skirts of flame that mar
The sick moon's disk they saw;
The trembling splendour of a star
Took them with patient awe,
And all those glories fair and far
Had strength to touch and draw.
The sick moon's disk they saw;
The trembling splendour of a star
Took them with patient awe,
And all those glories fair and far
Had strength to touch and draw.
One looked upon the earth and smiled
As his grave lids drew down;
The other, earnest as a child,
With brows that could not frown,
Stared heavenward, till his eyes were filled
With star, and shade, and moon.
As his grave lids drew down;
The other, earnest as a child,
With brows that could not frown,
Stared heavenward, till his eyes were filled
With star, and shade, and moon.
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The first spoke slowly; o'er his head
A rent plume flickered pale
In the vague wind that shook and fled
Inward from sea to vale.
In a low voice and cold he said:
‘To-day were we to sail.
A rent plume flickered pale
In the vague wind that shook and fled
Inward from sea to vale.
In a low voice and cold he said:
‘To-day were we to sail.
‘Now the far vessel strains in storm,
Stretching to alien isles,
And she that looked for me may charm
New men with her old wiles;
Mine eyes take not her perfect form,
My heart her settled smiles.’
Stretching to alien isles,
And she that looked for me may charm
New men with her old wiles;
Mine eyes take not her perfect form,
My heart her settled smiles.’
Then spake the other; bare he rode
Unhelmed in the sharp night:
‘To-day I tread the path she trod
Patiently, out of sight.
She went a holy name to God;
I walk within her light.’
Unhelmed in the sharp night:
‘To-day I tread the path she trod
Patiently, out of sight.
She went a holy name to God;
I walk within her light.’
Said one: ‘Thou wert to sail with me.’
Soft the brief answer fell,
As clouds drop rain on the slow sea:
‘I would have served thee well,
But love, I knew, was not in thee;
And with love should I dwell.’
Soft the brief answer fell,
As clouds drop rain on the slow sea:
‘I would have served thee well,
But love, I knew, was not in thee;
And with love should I dwell.’
Here the wind made a sullen rent
In the stained cloud, and all
The pale fierce moon glared at them, blent
With vapour like a pall.
The sea's moan woke again; there went
Through night a stormy call.
In the stained cloud, and all
The pale fierce moon glared at them, blent
With vapour like a pall.
The sea's moan woke again; there went
Through night a stormy call.
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The plumed knight turned; in his close hand
The bridle strained and shook;
He looked across the long low land
With a forsaken look;
Then flushed his drawn face of command,
Pale as a grey sea rock.
The bridle strained and shook;
He looked across the long low land
With a forsaken look;
Then flushed his drawn face of command,
Pale as a grey sea rock.
Never a word he spoke again,
But smote the helmless head.
Silent as falls the slow, tired rain,
The knight fell; then he said:
‘I loved not!’ and his face of pain
Grew quiet as the dead.
But smote the helmless head.
Silent as falls the slow, tired rain,
The knight fell; then he said:
‘I loved not!’ and his face of pain
Grew quiet as the dead.
But the knight rose and looked at him:
‘Go, bid them speed thy sail!
My heart is sick, my eyes turn dim,
I hear the waters wail.
Death fills my spirit to the brim
With wine of Lethe pale.
‘Go, bid them speed thy sail!
My heart is sick, my eyes turn dim,
I hear the waters wail.
Death fills my spirit to the brim
With wine of Lethe pale.
‘I hear the soundless steps that fall
Far on a golden floor,
I hear the voiceless words that call
Above us evermore.
I climb to enter in where all
Have passed in love before.
Far on a golden floor,
I hear the voiceless words that call
Above us evermore.
I climb to enter in where all
Have passed in love before.
‘She puts her rose into my hand,
Her pure face blesses mine.
I tremble; shall I ever stand
Where she stands up divine?
I tremble in the holy land,
I see her forehead shine.’
Her pure face blesses mine.
I tremble; shall I ever stand
Where she stands up divine?
I tremble in the holy land,
I see her forehead shine.’
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Then died he. And the sea-birds came
Nor rent him, lying there,
In white robes by the taper's flame,
They robed the dead limbs fair.
Then passed and found his face the same,
Upturned, white and bare,
Nor rent him, lying there,
In white robes by the taper's flame,
They robed the dead limbs fair.
Then passed and found his face the same,
Upturned, white and bare,
In virginal white robes set round
With fringe and crimson hem.
On the bare head that took the wound
They set his diadem,
And watched him, weeping without sound.
He seemed to smile at them.
With fringe and crimson hem.
On the bare head that took the wound
They set his diadem,
And watched him, weeping without sound.
He seemed to smile at them.
His face shone like a flame; all knew
The wonderful dead face.
So was he buried where the dew
Falls thick in a green place,
Planted with flowers purple and blue.
Christ took him into grace.
The wonderful dead face.
So was he buried where the dew
Falls thick in a green place,
Planted with flowers purple and blue.
Christ took him into grace.
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THE DREAMER
Glad, but not flushed with gladness,—
Since joys go by;
Sad, but not bent with sadness,—
Since sorrows die;
Faint in the gleaming glass
She sees all past things pass,
And all sweet life that was,
Lie down and die.
Since joys go by;
Sad, but not bent with sadness,—
Since sorrows die;
Faint in the gleaming glass
She sees all past things pass,
And all sweet life that was,
Lie down and die.
And glowing ghosts of flowers
Draw down, draw nigh,
And wings of swift dead hours
Take flight and fly;
And seeing she hears what seems
Lulled sounds of straying streams,
Dead mouths of many dreams
That sing and sigh.
Draw down, draw nigh,
And wings of swift dead hours
Take flight and fly;
And seeing she hears what seems
Lulled sounds of straying streams,
Dead mouths of many dreams
That sing and sigh.
A painted dream, beholden
Of no man's eye,
Framed in far memories, golden
As hope when nigh
Holds fast her soul that hears
Faint waters flow like tears
By shores no sunbeam cheers
From all the sky.
Of no man's eye,
Framed in far memories, golden
As hope when nigh
Holds fast her soul that hears
Faint waters flow like tears
By shores no sunbeam cheers
From all the sky.
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Face fallen and white throat lifted
With sleepless eye,
She sees old loves that drifted
Sink low, soar high.
Old loves and faded fears
Float down a shore that hears
The flowing of all men's tears
Beneath the sky.
With sleepless eye,
She sees old loves that drifted
Sink low, soar high.
Old loves and faded fears
Float down a shore that hears
The flowing of all men's tears
Beneath the sky.
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THE RIDE FROM MILAN
As we rode into the day, riding silent all the way,
Through the dark a pulse of grey throbbed and ran;
Till a sunrise white and lowly smote athwart the shadows holy
As we rode on, riding slowly from Milan.
Through the dark a pulse of grey throbbed and ran;
Till a sunrise white and lowly smote athwart the shadows holy
As we rode on, riding slowly from Milan.
Then we saw their eagles glisten—saw the gloom recede and lessen,
Paused as one might pause to listen what were said—
Saw the white points burn together, saw the Devil's colours gather,
In a pause of thunderous weather overhead.
Paused as one might pause to listen what were said—
Saw the white points burn together, saw the Devil's colours gather,
In a pause of thunderous weather overhead.
Black with doubtful fluctuation shone the streamen from their station,
In a sullen hesitation of the light;
Under these the grey mass thickened; and our eyes with wrath were quickened,
And our hands with hatred sickened at the sight.
In a sullen hesitation of the light;
Under these the grey mass thickened; and our eyes with wrath were quickened,
And our hands with hatred sickened at the sight.
Face to silent face was turned, hands against the sword-hilt yearned,
All the breathless anger burned in a smile,
As we stood up face to face, as we stood up race by race,
In that bloodless battle-place for a while.
All the breathless anger burned in a smile,
As we stood up face to face, as we stood up race by race,
In that bloodless battle-place for a while.
93
Ah, but soon we smiled no longer; soon our hearts felt hard and stronger,
With the blind and murderous hunger that they knew;
There was just a pause to wonder—there was noise of iron and thunder—
Then the ranks were rent in sunder as it flew.
With the blind and murderous hunger that they knew;
There was just a pause to wonder—there was noise of iron and thunder—
Then the ranks were rent in sunder as it flew.
For the cannon solemn-lipped spake in tones that rose and dipt,
Rose and dipt through clouds they ripped into smoke;
And before us all the field like a stormy water ruled,
While the grave slow thunder peeled as it spoke.
Rose and dipt through clouds they ripped into smoke;
And before us all the field like a stormy water ruled,
While the grave slow thunder peeled as it spoke.
Close our dear three colours drew; deeper all the battle grew;
Face to face we smote and slew, man by man;
And the sullen palpitation of a live and trampled nation
On from station into station throbbed and ran.
Face to face we smote and slew, man by man;
And the sullen palpitation of a live and trampled nation
On from station into station throbbed and ran.
Straight upon them next we sallied, mute as wrath and somewhat pallid,
As their long lines broke and rallied far away;
Hands grew tighter, lips grew whiter, till the press seemed slowly lighter,
As the cannon's mouth burnt brighter through the day.
As their long lines broke and rallied far away;
Hands grew tighter, lips grew whiter, till the press seemed slowly lighter,
As the cannon's mouth burnt brighter through the day.
Then our hearts began to thicken for our brothers that were stricken,
And the wrath began to quicken into pain,
For the holy limbs downtrodden, for the grasses red and sodden,
Where the feet of death had trodden in the plain.
And the wrath began to quicken into pain,
For the holy limbs downtrodden, for the grasses red and sodden,
Where the feet of death had trodden in the plain.
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Vain were horse and rider then, vain the might of many men,
For the place was as a fen—wet and red;
And the faces heaped beneath could not turn to cry or breathe,
For the close, dim weight of death overhead.
For the place was as a fen—wet and red;
And the faces heaped beneath could not turn to cry or breathe,
For the close, dim weight of death overhead.
All the blind war, like a devil, seemed to mutter through his revel,
Seemed to mutter words of evil very low,
As the cannon paused for breath in its middle speech of death,
And more vague the noise beneath seemed to grow.
Seemed to mutter words of evil very low,
As the cannon paused for breath in its middle speech of death,
And more vague the noise beneath seemed to grow.
Not one word of hope was spoken; eye to lighted eye gave token,
Till the grey great mass was broken with our steeds;
And the set wrath seemed to utter in a vague and weighty mutter,
Fainter than a hurt bird's flutter when it bleeds.
Till the grey great mass was broken with our steeds;
And the set wrath seemed to utter in a vague and weighty mutter,
Fainter than a hurt bird's flutter when it bleeds.
Then for one red hour we heard stroke of steel nor spoken word,
Beat of hoof nor blow of sword as it sunk,
But an anger half divine deepened on from line to line,
And a thirst for blood-red wine to be drunk.
Beat of hoof nor blow of sword as it sunk,
But an anger half divine deepened on from line to line,
And a thirst for blood-red wine to be drunk.
Ever as we strove and smote till the dense dead air grew hot,
The flat smoke would flow and float overhead;
Till a blind black weight of weather right above began to gather,
And the banners blown together seemed of red.
The flat smoke would flow and float overhead;
Till a blind black weight of weather right above began to gather,
And the banners blown together seemed of red.
95
As an eagle reeleth smitten through the vapours thunder-litten,
Reeled their army, blind and smitten with great fear;
Far to northward went the clangour of their trumpets in their anger,
Till the wail died into languor thin and clear.
Reeled their army, blind and smitten with great fear;
Far to northward went the clangour of their trumpets in their anger,
Till the wail died into languor thin and clear.
Ho, ro, Austrians! was this hidden, that ye stand so white and chidden?
To this pledge of ours was bidden prince and priest;
Each grand name your blazons carry where the Devil's colours marry,
Ho, our masters! will ye tarry for the feast?
To this pledge of ours was bidden prince and priest;
Each grand name your blazons carry where the Devil's colours marry,
Ho, our masters! will ye tarry for the feast?
As we rode into the night, red with respite of the fight,
Through the dark a line of white leapt and ran;
Every heart was softened wholly, every lip with praise made holy,
As we rode back very slowly to Milan.
Through the dark a line of white leapt and ran;
Every heart was softened wholly, every lip with praise made holy,
As we rode back very slowly to Milan.
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THE ITALIAN MOTHER
Is there any to weep for the dead,
For the dead that are glorious and slain?
Shall the mother be sad for her son,
Or the bride for the bridegroom's head
That her eyes shall embrace not again?
There is none to lament, not one.
For the dead that are glorious and slain?
Shall the mother be sad for her son,
Or the bride for the bridegroom's head
That her eyes shall embrace not again?
There is none to lament, not one.
O beautiful mother of men,
Have we seen thee indeed rearisen,
Thee rent by the Austrian rods,
From the depth of the wild beast's den,
From the place of the spirits in prison,
O mother of men like gods?
Have we seen thee indeed rearisen,
Thee rent by the Austrian rods,
From the depth of the wild beast's den,
From the place of the spirits in prison,
O mother of men like gods?
O happy beyond all praise,
O noble beyond all fame,
Of whom it shall alway be said
That none to the end of days,
Shall glorify Italy's name
And not the names of her dead.
O noble beyond all fame,
Of whom it shall alway be said
That none to the end of days,
Shall glorify Italy's name
And not the names of her dead.
Yea, glad beyond word of mine,
Yea, proud beyond word, O brothers,
The lowest and least of you all.
His memory shall warm as wine
The spirit and sense of the others,
Shall ring as a clarion's call.
Yea, proud beyond word, O brothers,
The lowest and least of you all.
His memory shall warm as wine
The spirit and sense of the others,
Shall ring as a clarion's call.
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Forgotten the name, the place,
Forgotten the mortal hour,
The pang, and the fugitive breath;
The mother's withering face
Bowed low like a broken flower,
At the sound of the last son's death.
Forgotten the mortal hour,
The pang, and the fugitive breath;
The mother's withering face
Bowed low like a broken flower,
At the sound of the last son's death.
Forgotten the eyes of the bride
That the news left wan, not wet,
Till awhile they relaxed in tears.
And again grew goodly with pride;
But thee she will not forget,
Thy mother, in all these years.
That the news left wan, not wet,
Till awhile they relaxed in tears.
And again grew goodly with pride;
But thee she will not forget,
Thy mother, in all these years.
| Complete works (1925-27) | |