 | The white sail and other poems |  |
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LEGENDS.
TARPEIA.
Woe: lightly to part with one's soul as the sea with its foam!
Woe to Tarpeia, Tarpeia, daughter of Rome!
Woe to Tarpeia, Tarpeia, daughter of Rome!
Lo, now it was night, with the moon looking chill as she went:
It was morn when the innocent stranger strayed into the tent.
It was morn when the innocent stranger strayed into the tent.
The hostile Sabini were pleased, as one meshing a bird;
She sang for them there in the ambush: they smiled as they heard.
She sang for them there in the ambush: they smiled as they heard.
Her sombre hair purpled in gleams, as she leaned to the light;
All day she had idled and feasted, and now it was night.
All day she had idled and feasted, and now it was night.
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The chief sat apart, heavy-browed, brooding elbow on knee;
The armlets he wore were thrice royal, and wondrous to see:
The armlets he wore were thrice royal, and wondrous to see:
Exquisite artifice, whorls of barbaric design,
Frost's fixèd mimicry; orbic imaginings fine
Frost's fixèd mimicry; orbic imaginings fine
In sevenfold coils: and in orient glimmer from them,
The variform voluble swinging of gem upon gem.
The variform voluble swinging of gem upon gem.
And the glory thereof sent fever and fire to her eye.
‘I had never such trinkets!’ she sighed,—like a lute was her sigh.
‘I had never such trinkets!’ she sighed,—like a lute was her sigh.
‘Were they mine at the plea, were they mine for the token, all told,
Now the citadel sleeps, now my father the keeper is old,
Now the citadel sleeps, now my father the keeper is old,
‘If I go by the way that I know, and thou followest hard,
If yet at the touch of Tarpeia the gates be unbarred?’
If yet at the touch of Tarpeia the gates be unbarred?’
The chief trembled sharply for joy, then drew rein on his soul:
‘Of all this arm beareth I swear I will cede thee the whole.’
‘Of all this arm beareth I swear I will cede thee the whole.’
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And up from the nooks of the camp, with hoarse plaudit outdealt,
The bearded Sabini glanced hotly, and vowed as they knelt,
The bearded Sabini glanced hotly, and vowed as they knelt,
Bare-stretching the wrists that bore also the glowing great boon:
‘Yea! surely as over us shineth the lurid low moon,
‘Yea! surely as over us shineth the lurid low moon,
‘Not alone of our lord, but of each of us take what he hath!
Too poor is the guerdon, if thou wilt but show us the path.’
Too poor is the guerdon, if thou wilt but show us the path.’
Her nostril upraised, like a fawn's on the arrowy air,
She sped; in a serpentine gleam to the precipice stair,
She sped; in a serpentine gleam to the precipice stair,
They climbed in her traces, they closed on their evil swift star:
She bent to the latches, and swung the huge portal ajar.
She bent to the latches, and swung the huge portal ajar.
Repulsed where they passed her, half-tearful for wounded belief,
‘The bracelets!’ she pleaded. Then faced her the leonine chief,
‘The bracelets!’ she pleaded. Then faced her the leonine chief,
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And answered her: ‘Even as I promised, maid-merchant, I do.’
Down from his dark shoulder the baubles he sullenly drew.
Down from his dark shoulder the baubles he sullenly drew.
‘This left arm shall nothing begrudge thee. Accept. Find it sweet.
Give, too, O my brothers!’ The jewels he flung at her feet,
Give, too, O my brothers!’ The jewels he flung at her feet,
The jewels hard, heavy; she stooped to them, flushing with dread,
But the shield he flung after: it clanged on her beautiful head.
But the shield he flung after: it clanged on her beautiful head.
Like the Apennine bells when the villagers' warnings begin,
Athwart the first lull broke the ominous din upon din;
Athwart the first lull broke the ominous din upon din;
With a ‘Hail, benefactress!’ upon her they heaped in their zeal
Death: agate and iron; death: chrysoprase, beryl and steel.
Death: agate and iron; death: chrysoprase, beryl and steel.
'Neath the outcry of scorn, 'neath the sinewy tension and hurl,
The moaning died slowly, and still they massed over the girl
The moaning died slowly, and still they massed over the girl
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A mountain of shields! and the gemmy bright tangle in links,
A torrent-like gush, pouring out on the grass from the chinks,
A torrent-like gush, pouring out on the grass from the chinks,
Pyramidal gold! the sumptuous monument won
By the deed they had loved her for, doing, and loathed her for, done.
By the deed they had loved her for, doing, and loathed her for, done.
Such was the wage that they paid her, such the acclaim:
All Rome was aroused with the thunder that buried her shame.
All Rome was aroused with the thunder that buried her shame.
On surged the Sabini to battle. O you that aspire!
Tarpeia the traitor had fill of her woman's desire.
Tarpeia the traitor had fill of her woman's desire.
Woe: lightly to part with one's soul as the sea with its foam!
Woe to Tarpeia, Tarpeia, daughter of Rome!
Woe to Tarpeia, Tarpeia, daughter of Rome!
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THE CALIPH AND THE BEGGAR.
I.
Scorner of the pleading faces,
In the first year of his reign,
From the lean crowd and its traces
In the first year of his reign,
From the lean crowd and its traces
Down the open orchard-lane
Walked young Mahmoud in his glory,
In his pomp and his disdain
Walked young Mahmoud in his glory,
In his pomp and his disdain
And beyond all oratory,
Music's sweetness, ocean's might,
Fell a voice from branches hoary:
Music's sweetness, ocean's might,
Fell a voice from branches hoary:
‘He whose heart is at life's height,
Who has wisdom, love, and riches,
Islam's greatest, dies this night.’
Who has wisdom, love, and riches,
Islam's greatest, dies this night.’
And he crossed the rampart ditches
Blinded, and confused, and slow;
High in palaced nooks and niches
Blinded, and confused, and slow;
High in palaced nooks and niches
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Clanged his fathers' shields a-row;
And their turrets triple-jointed
Shook with tempests of his woe.
And their turrets triple-jointed
Shook with tempests of his woe.
Long past midnight, disanointed,
Prone upon his breast he lay,
Warring on that hour appointed:
Prone upon his breast he lay,
Warring on that hour appointed:
But behold! at break of day,—
As if heaven itself had spoken,—
Blown across the bannered bay,
As if heaven itself had spoken,—
Blown across the bannered bay,
Over mart and mosque outbroken,
Came the silver-solemn chime
For some parted spirit's token!
Came the silver-solemn chime
For some parted spirit's token!
Mahmoud, with free breath sublime,
Summoned one whose snow-locks heaving
Made the vision of hoar Time;
Summoned one whose snow-locks heaving
Made the vision of hoar Time;
And the red tides of thanksgiving
On his lifted brow, he said:
‘In my city of the living,
On his lifted brow, he said:
‘In my city of the living,
Which, proclaimed of bells, is dead?’
And the gray beard answered: ‘Master,
One who yesternight for bread
And the gray beard answered: ‘Master,
One who yesternight for bread
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At thy gateway's bronze pilaster
Begged in vain: blind Selim, he,
Victim of the old disaster.’
Begged in vain: blind Selim, he,
Victim of the old disaster.’
And the vassal suddenly
Looked on his hard lord with wonder,
For those tears were strange to see.
Looked on his hard lord with wonder,
For those tears were strange to see.
II.
Yet again, where boughs asunder
Held the wavy orchard-tent,
Sun-empurpled clusters under
Held the wavy orchard-tent,
Sun-empurpled clusters under
In changed mood the Caliph went;
And anew heard sounds upgather,
(Chidings with caressings blent,
And anew heard sounds upgather,
(Chidings with caressings blent,
As the voice once of his father):
‘Haughty heart! not thou wert wise,
Rich, belovèd; Selim, rather,
‘Haughty heart! not thou wert wise,
Rich, belovèd; Selim, rather,
‘Islam's prince in Allah's eyes!
Even the meek, in his great station,
Freehold had of Paradise.’
Even the meek, in his great station,
Freehold had of Paradise.’
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III.
When the plague-wind's desolation
Pierced Bassora's burning wall,
Circled with a kneeling nation
Pierced Bassora's burning wall,
Circled with a kneeling nation
Whom his mercies held in thrall,
Died the Caliph, whispering tender
Counsel to his liegemen tall:
Died the Caliph, whispering tender
Counsel to his liegemen tall:
‘One last service, children! render
Me, whose pride the Lord forgave:
Not by our supreme Defender,
Me, whose pride the Lord forgave:
Not by our supreme Defender,
‘Not beside the holy wave,
Not in places where my race is
Lay me! but in Selim's grave.’
Not in places where my race is
Lay me! but in Selim's grave.’
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THE RISE OF THE TIDE.
A fisherman gray, one night of yore,
His nets upgathered, plied the oar,
Right merrily heading for a haven,
While summer winds blew blithe before.
His nets upgathered, plied the oar,
Right merrily heading for a haven,
While summer winds blew blithe before.
He sat beneath his pennon white;
His arms were brown, his eye was bright;
Twice twenty years his breast had carried
A ribbon from Lepanto's fight.
His arms were brown, his eye was bright;
Twice twenty years his breast had carried
A ribbon from Lepanto's fight.
A cove he spied at sunset's edge,
With pleasant trees and margin-sedge;
And barefoot went by stakes down-driven
Thro' shallows wading from the ledge,
With pleasant trees and margin-sedge;
And barefoot went by stakes down-driven
Thro' shallows wading from the ledge,
The boat drawn after; but behold!
A check fell on his venture bold:
He stood imprisoned, vainly leading
The ropes in whitening fingers old.
A check fell on his venture bold:
He stood imprisoned, vainly leading
The ropes in whitening fingers old.
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Within that black and marshy sound
His weight had sunken; he was bound
Knee-deep! and as he beat and struggled,
The mocking ripples danced around.
His weight had sunken; he was bound
Knee-deep! and as he beat and struggled,
The mocking ripples danced around.
Long since the wood-thrush ceased her song;
The summer wind grew fierce and strong;
The shuddering moon went into hiding;
Down came the storm to wreak him wrong.
The summer wind grew fierce and strong;
The shuddering moon went into hiding;
Down came the storm to wreak him wrong.
Against the prow he leaned his chin,
Thinking of all his strength had been;
Then turned, and laughed with courage steady:
‘O ho! what straits we twain are in!’
Thinking of all his strength had been;
Then turned, and laughed with courage steady:
‘O ho! what straits we twain are in!’
And strove anew, unterrified,
But lastly, wearied wholly, cried
For succor, since his laden wherry
Rocked ever on the coming tide.
But lastly, wearied wholly, cried
For succor, since his laden wherry
Rocked ever on the coming tide.
[OMITTED]
‘I hear a cry of anguish sore!’
But straight his love had barred the door:
‘Bide here; the night bodes naught but danger.’
Loud beat the waves along the shore.
But straight his love had barred the door:
‘Bide here; the night bodes naught but danger.’
Loud beat the waves along the shore.
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A bedded child made soft behest:
‘So loud the voice I cannot rest.’
‘It is the rain, dear, in the garden.’
The cruel water binds his breast.
‘So loud the voice I cannot rest.’
‘It is the rain, dear, in the garden.’
The cruel water binds his breast.
‘A lamp, a lamp! some traveller's lost!’
But thro' the tavern roared the host:
‘Nay, only thunder rude and heavy.’
Close to his lips the foam is tossed.
But thro' the tavern roared the host:
‘Nay, only thunder rude and heavy.’
Close to his lips the foam is tossed.
‘O listen well, my liege and king!
Hark from gay halls this grievous thing!’
‘Strange how the wild wind drowns our music!’
About his head the eddies swing.
Hark from gay halls this grievous thing!’
‘Strange how the wild wind drowns our music!’
About his head the eddies swing.
At stroke of three the abbot meek
Moved out among his flock to speak
This word, with tears of doubt and wonder:
‘I had a dream; come forth and seek.’
Moved out among his flock to speak
This word, with tears of doubt and wonder:
‘I had a dream; come forth and seek.’
With torch and flagon, forth they sped:
The fisher glared from the harbor-bed!
The tide, from his white hair down-fallen,
All kindly ebbed, now he was dead.
The fisher glared from the harbor-bed!
The tide, from his white hair down-fallen,
All kindly ebbed, now he was dead.
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Lepanto's star shone fast and good;
The sea-kelp wrapped him like a hood;
His arms were stretched in woe to heaven;
The boat had drifted: so he stood.
The sea-kelp wrapped him like a hood;
His arms were stretched in woe to heaven;
The boat had drifted: so he stood.
The Unavenged he seemed to be!
Then fell each monk upon his knee:
‘Lord Christ!’ the abbot sang, awe-stricken:
‘Rest my old rival's soul!’ sang he.
Then fell each monk upon his knee:
‘Lord Christ!’ the abbot sang, awe-stricken:
‘Rest my old rival's soul!’ sang he.
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CHALUZ CASTLE.
There sped, at hint of treasure
Dug from the garden-mould,
Word to the doughty vassal:
‘Thy sovereign claims the gold!’
‘Nay, Richard, come and wrest it!’
Said Vidomar the bold.
Dug from the garden-mould,
Word to the doughty vassal:
‘Thy sovereign claims the gold!’
‘Nay, Richard, come and wrest it!’
Said Vidomar the bold.
Uprose the Lionhearted,
He locked his armor on:
And over seas that morrow
Around his gonfalon,
The crash and hiss of battle
Blazed up, and mocked the sun.
He locked his armor on:
And over seas that morrow
Around his gonfalon,
The crash and hiss of battle
Blazed up, and mocked the sun.
King Richard led his bowmen
By Chaluz dark and high;
Like rain and rack they followed
His flashing storm-blue eye:
Forth peered Bertrand de Gourdon
From the turret stair thereby.
By Chaluz dark and high;
Like rain and rack they followed
His flashing storm-blue eye:
Forth peered Bertrand de Gourdon
From the turret stair thereby.
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Thro' morris-pikes and halberds
The king rode out and in,
His horse in gaudy trappings,
His sabre drawn and thin:
Down knelt Bertrand de Gourdon
His strongbow at his chin.
The king rode out and in,
His horse in gaudy trappings,
His sabre drawn and thin:
Down knelt Bertrand de Gourdon
His strongbow at his chin.
O shrill that arrow quivered!
And fierce and awful broke
Acclaim in billowy thunder
From all the foreign folk,
At mighty Richard fallen
Beneath a foreign oak!
And fierce and awful broke
Acclaim in billowy thunder
From all the foreign folk,
At mighty Richard fallen
Beneath a foreign oak!
Then leaped his English barons,
Converging from afar,
And loosed the flood of slaughter
To the gates of Vidomar;
And seized Bertrand de Gourdon,
As clouds enmesh a star.
Converging from afar,
And loosed the flood of slaughter
To the gates of Vidomar;
And seized Bertrand de Gourdon,
As clouds enmesh a star.
They brought the bright-cheeked archer
Who scoffed not, neither feared,
To the tent ringed in with faces
That menaced in their beard;
But the king's face lay before him
In the lamplight semisphered.
Who scoffed not, neither feared,
To the tent ringed in with faces
That menaced in their beard;
But the king's face lay before him
In the lamplight semisphered.
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The king's self, stern and pallid
Gazed on the lad that day,
And as if dreams were on him
Besought him gently: ‘Say,
Bertrand de Gourdon! wherefore
Thou tak'st my life away?’
Gazed on the lad that day,
And as if dreams were on him
Besought him gently: ‘Say,
Bertrand de Gourdon! wherefore
Thou tak'st my life away?’
‘To venge my martyr-father,
My foster-brethren three:
In the name of thy dead foemen
This thing I did to thee!’
And Richard perished, sighing:
‘Forgive him. Set him free!’
My foster-brethren three:
In the name of thy dead foemen
This thing I did to thee!’
And Richard perished, sighing:
‘Forgive him. Set him free!’
Alas for that late loving
By seneschals betrayed!
While yet upon his lashes
The holy tear delayed,
They bound Bertrand de Gourdon,
They slew him in the glade.
By seneschals betrayed!
While yet upon his lashes
The holy tear delayed,
They bound Bertrand de Gourdon,
They slew him in the glade.
Alas for noble spirits
Whom fates perverse befall!
Whence David in his beauty
Gave healing unto Saul,
The jeering wind beats ever
On Chaluz castle wall.
Whom fates perverse befall!
Whence David in his beauty
Gave healing unto Saul,
The jeering wind beats ever
On Chaluz castle wall.
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THE WOOING PINE.
There was a lady, starshine in her look,
Of lineage fierce, yet tremulous and kind
As the field-gossamer, that down the wind
Floats gleamingly from some enthistled nook;
And wayward as her beauty was her mind
That evermore bright errant journeys took.
Of lineage fierce, yet tremulous and kind
As the field-gossamer, that down the wind
Floats gleamingly from some enthistled nook;
And wayward as her beauty was her mind
That evermore bright errant journeys took.
Her father's houndish lords she moved among,
From feud and uproar dewily distraught;
Winnowed her harp of its least pain; and brought
Delight's full freshet to a beggar's tongue,
Or spun amid her maids with chapel-thought
That on a crystal pivot burned and swung.
From feud and uproar dewily distraught;
Winnowed her harp of its least pain; and brought
Delight's full freshet to a beggar's tongue,
Or spun amid her maids with chapel-thought
That on a crystal pivot burned and swung.
But night on night, an exile from sleek rest,
She nestled warm before her hearth-fire low,
To watch its little wind-born planets go
Orbing; and from the martyr-oak's charred breast,
In spirit-blue flame, in quintuple wild glow,
The tossing leaves prolong their summer zest.
She nestled warm before her hearth-fire low,
To watch its little wind-born planets go
Orbing; and from the martyr-oak's charred breast,
In spirit-blue flame, in quintuple wild glow,
The tossing leaves prolong their summer zest.
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And ailingly, she needs must often sigh,
Perplexèd out of her rich wonted glee,
Whereof some unseen warder kept the key,
And quell the dark defiance of her eye
In patience, as a torch dips in the sea.
And so, in brooding, went the white days by.
Perplexèd out of her rich wonted glee,
Whereof some unseen warder kept the key,
And quell the dark defiance of her eye
In patience, as a torch dips in the sea.
And so, in brooding, went the white days by.
Unto the horsemen brave in war's array
She waved no token from her latticed house,
Nor yet of princelings bare upon her brows
Love's salutation; but from such as they
Turned, as a shy brook wheels from jutting boughs,
And in a sidelong glimmer sobs away
She waved no token from her latticed house,
Nor yet of princelings bare upon her brows
Love's salutation; but from such as they
Turned, as a shy brook wheels from jutting boughs,
And in a sidelong glimmer sobs away
Her sealèd sense beheld no man, nor heard,
Nor lent its troth to any mortal bond,
But lived heart-full of vital light beyond,
And with miraculous tides of being stirred,
Lingering tho' eager, till the forest fond
Winged to its own pure peace this homing bird.
Nor lent its troth to any mortal bond,
But lived heart-full of vital light beyond,
And with miraculous tides of being stirred,
Lingering tho' eager, till the forest fond
Winged to its own pure peace this homing bird.
For, sad with rains of unrevealed desire,
And heavy with predestined glory's beam,
She to the water-girdled wood's extreme
Stole from her suitors' pleas, her father's ire,
Far from their brambly ways to sit and dream,
And make sweet plaint, in daylight's dying fire;
And heavy with predestined glory's beam,
She to the water-girdled wood's extreme
Stole from her suitors' pleas, her father's ire,
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And make sweet plaint, in daylight's dying fire;
When, one with lilt of her own veins, there rose
Across remote and jasmine-pillared space,
A voice of so persuasive, piteous grace
That all her globèd sorrow did unclose
To fragrant helpfulness in that still place,
And sought, in tears, the breather of such woes.
Across remote and jasmine-pillared space,
A voice of so persuasive, piteous grace
That all her globèd sorrow did unclose
To fragrant helpfulness in that still place,
And sought, in tears, the breather of such woes.
And peering, of the level-shafted sun
Evasive, listening from a mossy knoll,
To kindling quiet sank her gentle soul,
In awe at some high venture to be done,
As when outpeals from Fame's coercive pole,
Too soon, on ears too weak, her clarion.
Evasive, listening from a mossy knoll,
To kindling quiet sank her gentle soul,
In awe at some high venture to be done,
As when outpeals from Fame's coercive pole,
Too soon, on ears too weak, her clarion.
Burst in the golden air a wide and deep
Torrent of harmony, that with clang and shock
Might wreck a pinnace on an Afric rock,
And on the ruin foamily o'erheap
Bright reparation: 't was a strength to mock
Itself with swoons, and idle sobs, and sleep.
Torrent of harmony, that with clang and shock
Might wreck a pinnace on an Afric rock,
And on the ruin foamily o'erheap
Bright reparation: 't was a strength to mock
Itself with swoons, and idle sobs, and sleep.
A splendor-hoary pine, of kingliest cheer,
Enrooted 'neath her thrilling footfall, stood;
Suffused with youth and gracious hardihood,
Sown of the wind from heaven's memorial sphere,
With the red might of centuries in his blood,
Unscarred and straight against the battling year,
Enrooted 'neath her thrilling footfall, stood;
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Sown of the wind from heaven's memorial sphere,
With the red might of centuries in his blood,
Unscarred and straight against the battling year,
From whose great heart those noble accents flowed,
And from the melancholy arms outspread
Whereon the aching winter long had snowed:
‘Come, sister! spouse! whom Love hath strangely led
From bondage, come!’ And her most blessèd head
She laid upon his breast as her abode.
And from the melancholy arms outspread
Whereon the aching winter long had snowed:
‘Come, sister! spouse! whom Love hath strangely led
From bondage, come!’ And her most blessèd head
She laid upon his breast as her abode.
O wonderful to hearing, touch, and gaze!
This was of soul's unrest and spirit's scar
Solving and healing; this the late full star
Superillumining the hither ways,
And the old blind allegiance set ajar
Like a dark door, against its flooded rays.
This was of soul's unrest and spirit's scar
Solving and healing; this the late full star
Superillumining the hither ways,
And the old blind allegiance set ajar
Like a dark door, against its flooded rays.
All intertangled fell their dusky hair
In tender twilight's bowery recess;
And that fair bride of her heart-heaviness
Was disenthralled in love's Lethean air,
Where orchids hung upon the wind's caress,
And the first tawny lily made her lair.
In tender twilight's bowery recess;
And that fair bride of her heart-heaviness
Was disenthralled in love's Lethean air,
Where orchids hung upon the wind's caress,
And the first tawny lily made her lair.
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Dear minions served them in the covert green:
The squirrel coy, the beetle in his mail,
The moth, the bee, the throbbing nightingale,
And the gaunt wolf, their vassal; to them e'en
The widowed serpent, on her vengeful trail,
Upcast an iridescent eye serene.
The squirrel coy, the beetle in his mail,
The moth, the bee, the throbbing nightingale,
And the gaunt wolf, their vassal; to them e'en
The widowed serpent, on her vengeful trail,
Upcast an iridescent eye serene.
The last tired envoy from the realm bereaved
Blew at the drawbridge, riding castlewards;
The fisher-folk along the beachen shards
Pierced, calling, the cool thickets silvern leaved;
And grandams meagre, and road-roaming bards
Shared her sad theme, for whom men vainly grieved.
Blew at the drawbridge, riding castlewards;
The fisher-folk along the beachen shards
Pierced, calling, the cool thickets silvern leaved;
And grandams meagre, and road-roaming bards
Shared her sad theme, for whom men vainly grieved.
But lad and lass, with parted mouth a-bloom,
Who strayed thereby in April's misty prime,
A vision freshening to the after-time
Caught thro' the rifts of uninvaded gloom,—
A maiden, honey-lipped as Tuscan rhyme,
And her young hunter, with his sombre plume.
Who strayed thereby in April's misty prime,
A vision freshening to the after-time
Caught thro' the rifts of uninvaded gloom,—
A maiden, honey-lipped as Tuscan rhyme,
And her young hunter, with his sombre plume.
For dynasties tho' passing-bells be tolled,
Theirs is the midmost ecstasy of June,
Her music, her imperishable moon;
While Time, that elsewhere is so rough and cold,
Like a soft child, flower-plucking all forenoon,
Gathers the ages from this garden old.
Theirs is the midmost ecstasy of June,
Her music, her imperishable moon;
While Time, that elsewhere is so rough and cold,
Like a soft child, flower-plucking all forenoon,
Gathers the ages from this garden old.
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Calm housemates with them in their forest lone
Do Freedom, Innocence and Joy, abide:
And aye as one who into Heaven hath died
Thro' mortal aisleways of melodious moan,
The boatman sees, at dusk, from Arno's tide,
The Everlasting Lover with his own!
Do Freedom, Innocence and Joy, abide:
And aye as one who into Heaven hath died
Thro' mortal aisleways of melodious moan,
The boatman sees, at dusk, from Arno's tide,
The Everlasting Lover with his own!
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THE SERPENT'S CROWN.
Said he: ‘O diligent rover! browned under many a heaven,
Treasure and trophy you carry, spoils from the east and the west;
Yet I fear that you passed it over, the chief clime out of the seven,
My wonder-land and my island, where the chance of a knight is best.
Treasure and trophy you carry, spoils from the east and the west;
Yet I fear that you passed it over, the chief clime out of the seven,
My wonder-land and my island, where the chance of a knight is best.
‘There from the black mid-forest, past hemlock guards in waiting
(Heard you not of the legend?), when the wide sun winks at noon,
On the rock-ways sharpest, hoarest, warily undulating,
A star-dappled serpent hurries, with the odorous grace of June.
(Heard you not of the legend?), when the wide sun winks at noon,
On the rock-ways sharpest, hoarest, warily undulating,
A star-dappled serpent hurries, with the odorous grace of June.
‘Over her human forehead, reared among glens abysmal,
Glitters a crown gold-gossamer; only a moment's arc
Crosses the creature torrid, flexile, palpitant, prismal,
Then breaks on the earth, a terror spiralling into the dark.
Glitters a crown gold-gossamer; only a moment's arc
58
Then breaks on the earth, a terror spiralling into the dark.
‘Every to-day and to-morrow, as the foreign old belfries tremble
With the hammer-hard heels of noon, just that instant, nor more nor less,
In the blue witch-reptile's furrow her shape stands to dissemble,
And the barbed tongue tempts and entices, and the fire-eyes acquiesce.
With the hammer-hard heels of noon, just that instant, nor more nor less,
In the blue witch-reptile's furrow her shape stands to dissemble,
And the barbed tongue tempts and entices, and the fire-eyes acquiesce.
‘Once she was a wily woman, whose glory the gods have finished,
Whose handicraft still is ruin, whose glee is to snare and kill,
Defier of spearman and bowman, her empery undiminished;
But whoso can overcome her, shall bend the world to his will!
Whose handicraft still is ruin, whose glee is to snare and kill,
Defier of spearman and bowman, her empery undiminished;
But whoso can overcome her, shall bend the world to his will!
‘Therefore the knights importune to spur thro' the jungles fruity,
Many a lad and a hunter and a dreamer there ventureth;
For the king tends power and fortune to the slayer of that demon-beauty,
And awards him her crown thrice-charmèd whose captor can outwit Death,
Many a lad and a hunter and a dreamer there ventureth;
59
And awards him her crown thrice-charmèd whose captor can outwit Death,
‘Aye, ride above storm and censure, and lord it o'er time and distance,
In the maddening-sweet assurance of bliss like a rose-rain shed,
All for a wood-path venture, a gallant alert resistance,
And a stroke of the steel in circle about that exquisite head!
In the maddening-sweet assurance of bliss like a rose-rain shed,
All for a wood-path venture, a gallant alert resistance,
And a stroke of the steel in circle about that exquisite head!
‘A task for your young drilled muscle!’ But the other, in soft derision
Answered him: ‘Oh, I had once some wild schemes under my hat:
Some thrill for this same snake-tussle, and the heirdom of life Elysian,
Long peace, long loving, long praises: but I've kindled and cooled on that!
Answered him: ‘Oh, I had once some wild schemes under my hat:
Some thrill for this same snake-tussle, and the heirdom of life Elysian,
Long peace, long loving, long praises: but I've kindled and cooled on that!
‘Ten years have I been a ranger, I have hewn all dread to the centre;
I have learned to sift out values; my soul is at rest and free.
If that be your boon for danger, on a dull safe youth to enter,
Tho' some may covet the guerdon, 'tis a poor enough thing to me.
I have learned to sift out values; my soul is at rest and free.
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Tho' some may covet the guerdon, 'tis a poor enough thing to me.
‘I choose, might I come and return so, to a cause, a friend and a foeman
Staunch, to endure for the rest but as a moth, or a marigold!
Let the philosophers yearn so, the king bribe squire and yeoman!
Not for my lease immortal the serpent shall be cajoled.
Staunch, to endure for the rest but as a moth, or a marigold!
Let the philosophers yearn so, the king bribe squire and yeoman!
Not for my lease immortal the serpent shall be cajoled.
‘To strike her down avenges her slain; but is evil ended?
The fashion dies; the function abides, and has fresher scope.
What is to be won? He cringes who would seize, were the choice extended,
For the risk elsewhere of living, here only survival's hope!
The fashion dies; the function abides, and has fresher scope.
What is to be won? He cringes who would seize, were the choice extended,
For the risk elsewhere of living, here only survival's hope!
‘I would keep my lot mine purely, cast in with men's forever;
Their transient tempest sooner than these Sybaritic calms;
Tho' against the cobra, surely, I would pit my soul's endeavor,
Her crown and its lonely meaning I would scorn to take in alms.
Their transient tempest sooner than these Sybaritic calms;
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Her crown and its lonely meaning I would scorn to take in alms.
‘Rather than ease unshaken, durance that sloth unhallows,
Once and for all, in honor, an end: what 's the forfeit crown
If the chance of my short term taken run plump on the axe or the gallows,
So one brother's fetter be loosened, or one tyrant trampled down?
Once and for all, in honor, an end: what 's the forfeit crown
If the chance of my short term taken run plump on the axe or the gallows,
So one brother's fetter be loosened, or one tyrant trampled down?
‘Why, see! this diadem's pleasure a Turk might sigh to inherit,—
Heart-beats thrumming; a torpid and solitary cheer;
No call to arms, no measure of progress! Well, let him wear it
Unquestioned ... I spurned the bauble when I killed your snake last year.’
Heart-beats thrumming; a torpid and solitary cheer;
No call to arms, no measure of progress! Well, let him wear it
Unquestioned ... I spurned the bauble when I killed your snake last year.’
62
MOUSTACHE.
A friendless pup that heard the fife
Sprang to the column thro' the clearing,
And on to Switzerland and strife
Went grenadiering.
Sprang to the column thro' the clearing,
And on to Switzerland and strife
Went grenadiering.
Much he endured, and much he dared
The long hot doomsday of the nations:
He wore a trooper's scars; he shared
A trooper's rations;
The long hot doomsday of the nations:
He wore a trooper's scars; he shared
A trooper's rations;
Warned pickets, seized the Austrian spies,
Bore the despatches; thro' the forces
From fallen riders, prompt and wise,
Led back the horses;
Bore the despatches; thro' the forces
From fallen riders, prompt and wise,
Led back the horses;
Served round the tents or in the van,
Quick-witted, tireless as a treadle:
‘This private wins,’ said Marshal Lannes,
‘Ribbon and medal.’
Quick-witted, tireless as a treadle:
‘This private wins,’ said Marshal Lannes,
‘Ribbon and medal.’
63
(‘Moustache, a brave French dog,’ it lay
Graven on silver, like a scholar's;
‘Who lost a leg on Jena day,
But saved the colors!’)
Graven on silver, like a scholar's;
‘Who lost a leg on Jena day,
But saved the colors!’)
At Saragossa he was slain;
They buried him, and fired a volley:
End of Moustache. Nay, that were strain
Too melancholy.
They buried him, and fired a volley:
End of Moustache. Nay, that were strain
Too melancholy.
His immortality was won,
His most of rapture came to bless him,
When, plumed and proud, Napoleon
Stooped to caress him.
His most of rapture came to bless him,
When, plumed and proud, Napoleon
Stooped to caress him.
His Emperor's hand upon his head!
How, since, shall lesser honors suit him?
Yet ever, in that army's stead,
Love will salute him.
How, since, shall lesser honors suit him?
Yet ever, in that army's stead,
Love will salute him.
And since not every cause enrolls
Such little, fond, sagacious henchmen,
Write this dog's moral on your scrolls,
Soldiers and Frenchmen!
Such little, fond, sagacious henchmen,
Write this dog's moral on your scrolls,
Soldiers and Frenchmen!
64
As law is law, can be no waste
Of faithfulness, of worth and beauty;
Lord of all time the slave is placed
Who doth his duty.
Of faithfulness, of worth and beauty;
Lord of all time the slave is placed
Who doth his duty.
No virtue fades to thin romance
But Heaven to use eternal moulds it:
Mark! Some firm pillar of new France,
Moustache upholds it.
But Heaven to use eternal moulds it:
Mark! Some firm pillar of new France,
Moustache upholds it.
65
RANIERI.
‘To the lute Ranieri played,
Once beneath the jasmine shade
In a June-bright bower imprisoned,
Many a Pisan beauty listened,
Velvet-eyed, with head propped under
Her gold hair's uncoifèd wonder;
Like the rich sun-blooded roses
Whom the wind o'ertakes in poses
Of some marble-still delight,
On the dewy verge of night.
Once beneath the jasmine shade
In a June-bright bower imprisoned,
Many a Pisan beauty listened,
Velvet-eyed, with head propped under
Her gold hair's uncoifèd wonder;
Like the rich sun-blooded roses
Whom the wind o'ertakes in poses
Of some marble-still delight,
On the dewy verge of night.
‘Merrily and loud sang he,
With the fairest at his knee,
Sky-ringed in that garden nest!
Who, save sorcerers, had guessed
Whither sylph and minstrel came
From the awful Archer's aim?
Or that, glossy-pined below,
Lay the city in her woe,
For her sins, as it was written,
Desolate and fever-smitten?
With the fairest at his knee,
Sky-ringed in that garden nest!
Who, save sorcerers, had guessed
Whither sylph and minstrel came
From the awful Archer's aim?
Or that, glossy-pined below,
Lay the city in her woe,
66
Desolate and fever-smitten?
‘Apt Ranieri was, and young,
Love's persuasion on his tongue;
And his high-erected glance,
Softened into dalliance,
Laughed along its haughty level:
Foremost in all skill and revel,
Steeled against the laws that seemed
Monkish figments idly dreamed,
Early dipping his wild wing
In the pools of rioting,
With the moaning world shut out,
With the damosels about;
Crimson-girdled, in the sun
Regnant, as if he were one
For whom Death himself was mute;—
So he sat, and twanged his lute.’
(Placid, in her novice veil,
Sister Claudia told the tale.)
Love's persuasion on his tongue;
And his high-erected glance,
Softened into dalliance,
Laughed along its haughty level:
Foremost in all skill and revel,
Steeled against the laws that seemed
Monkish figments idly dreamed,
Early dipping his wild wing
In the pools of rioting,
With the moaning world shut out,
With the damosels about;
Crimson-girdled, in the sun
Regnant, as if he were one
For whom Death himself was mute;—
So he sat, and twanged his lute.’
(Placid, in her novice veil,
Sister Claudia told the tale.)
‘When, across the air of June,
Like a mist half-risen at noon,
Or a fragrance barely noted,
A Judæan Vision floated!
Who, midway of music's burst,
Pleadingly, as if athirst,
Long athirst, and long unsated,
Sighed: “Ranieri!” sighed and waited.
Like a mist half-risen at noon,
Or a fragrance barely noted,
A Judæan Vision floated!
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Pleadingly, as if athirst,
Long athirst, and long unsated,
Sighed: “Ranieri!” sighed and waited.
‘Ah, the Prodigal that heard
Fell to ashes at the word!
But with broken murmurings
Putting by the wreathèd strings,—
From the safe and craven places,
From the fond, bewildered faces,
Trembling with the rush of thought,
With contrition overwrought,
At a royal gesture, down
Straight to the dismantled town;
Girt with justice, chaste and tender,
To all risks himself to render,
Of all sorrows rude and froward
To be prop and cure henceforward;
By no lapse of irksome duty
Swerving from the Only Beauty,
By no olden lure enticed;—
Saint Ranieri followed Christ!’
(Said the little nun: ‘Amen:
Christ who calleth, now as then.’)
Fell to ashes at the word!
But with broken murmurings
Putting by the wreathèd strings,—
From the safe and craven places,
From the fond, bewildered faces,
Trembling with the rush of thought,
With contrition overwrought,
At a royal gesture, down
Straight to the dismantled town;
Girt with justice, chaste and tender,
To all risks himself to render,
Of all sorrows rude and froward
To be prop and cure henceforward;
By no lapse of irksome duty
Swerving from the Only Beauty,
By no olden lure enticed;—
Saint Ranieri followed Christ!’
(Said the little nun: ‘Amen:
Christ who calleth, now as then.’)
68
SAINT CADOC'S BELL.
I.
Sailor! with wonder thou hearest me,
Moored where the roots of thine anchors be,
Tolling and wailing, bursting and failing, afar in the heart of the sea.
Moored where the roots of thine anchors be,
Tolling and wailing, bursting and failing, afar in the heart of the sea.
A bell was I of Pagan lands
Forged and welded in might and beauty,
But captured by Christian chivalry,
And set in a belfry by godly hands,
With chrisms and benedictions three,
For a fourfold consecrated duty:
To summon to pray, to peal for the fray,
To measure the hours, to moan for the dead;
To moan for the dead, ah me! ah me!
Where the wild gold parasites suck and spread,
Where the sea-flower rears her dreamy head;
In the grots of immortality
The cool weird singing mermaids dwell in;
In the still city, with its empurpled air
Shaken upon the eye from bastions fair
Of coral, and pearl, and unbought jasper's glisten,
I toll and wail, I burst and fail, ah, listen!
I, the holy bell, the gift of the Lord Llewellyn,
Now the keel of a Cornish ship looms over my prison,
Call from the underworld in mine old despair.
Forged and welded in might and beauty,
But captured by Christian chivalry,
And set in a belfry by godly hands,
With chrisms and benedictions three,
For a fourfold consecrated duty:
To summon to pray, to peal for the fray,
To measure the hours, to moan for the dead;
To moan for the dead, ah me! ah me!
Where the wild gold parasites suck and spread,
Where the sea-flower rears her dreamy head;
In the grots of immortality
69
In the still city, with its empurpled air
Shaken upon the eye from bastions fair
Of coral, and pearl, and unbought jasper's glisten,
I toll and wail, I burst and fail, ah, listen!
I, the holy bell, the gift of the Lord Llewellyn,
Now the keel of a Cornish ship looms over my prison,
Call from the underworld in mine old despair.
II.
They brought me in my virgin fameTo the carven minster wonder-high,
Close to the glorious sun and sky,
With song, and jubilee, and acclaim:
The fountains brimming with wine sprayed out on the crowd;
In the chapel-porches the viols and harps clanged loud,
And the slim maids danced a solemn measure, ever and aye the same,
Singing: ‘Behold, we hang our bell in
The freedom of spring, in the golden weather,
The gift of the Lord Llewellyn,
Redeemed from heathenry and strange shame,
The lion-strong bell, for our service at last led hither,
70
But ere the pleased stir of the people had died,
Llewellyn, fresh home from the wars, with his soldierly stride
Climbed, bearded and splendid in mail, and his only young child
Held up from his shoulder in sight of them all; till they cried
Peal on peal of delight when the rosy babe turned, and her lip
Laid sweetly upon me in benison mild.
Yea, sailor! and thou that hearest my voice from thy ship,
Thou knowest my sorrow's beginning, thou knowest, ah me!
Whence my tolling and wailing, my breaking and failing, afar in the heart of the sea.
III.
I served the Lord ten years and a day,
In Saint Cadoc's church by the surging bay;
And housed with the gathering webs and must,
'Mid whirring of velvety wings outside,
In calm and in wind, brooding over the tide,
And the bright massed roofs, and the crags' array,
My strong life, innocent and just,
Fell of a sudden to ashes and dust,
And on my neck hotly the demon laid the bare rod of his sway!
In Saint Cadoc's church by the surging bay;
And housed with the gathering webs and must,
'Mid whirring of velvety wings outside,
In calm and in wind, brooding over the tide,
71
My strong life, innocent and just,
Fell of a sudden to ashes and dust,
And on my neck hotly the demon laid the bare rod of his sway!
How it befell, I know not yet,
(Sailor, with wonder thou hearest me),
Save that a passionate sharp regret,
An exile's longing, o'ermastered not,
Seared thought like a pestilential spot,
And sent my day-dreams traitorously
Back to the place where my life began,
To the long blue mornings, blown and wet,
To the pyre by the sacred rivulet,
And the chanting Cappadocian.
No more a Christian bell was I!
For all became, which seemed so good,
Vile thraldom, in my bitter mood
That thrust the old conformance by.
Sullen and harsh, to the acolyte
I answered of a Sabbath night,
And sprang on the organ's withdrawing peal
To shatter its pomp, like a charge of steel.
The good monks puzzled and prayed, I trow:
But against their Heaven I set my brow.
(Sailor, with wonder thou hearest me),
Save that a passionate sharp regret,
An exile's longing, o'ermastered not,
Seared thought like a pestilential spot,
And sent my day-dreams traitorously
Back to the place where my life began,
To the long blue mornings, blown and wet,
To the pyre by the sacred rivulet,
And the chanting Cappadocian.
No more a Christian bell was I!
For all became, which seemed so good,
Vile thraldom, in my bitter mood
That thrust the old conformance by.
Sullen and harsh, to the acolyte
I answered of a Sabbath night,
And sprang on the organ's withdrawing peal
To shatter its pomp, like a charge of steel.
The good monks puzzled and prayed, I trow:
But against their Heaven I set my brow.
72
IV.
To me, by the ancient, triple-roped,Lone, tortuous stair, whereby I made
A tingling silence, a heavy concentric shade,
The twelve-years' child of the Lord Llewellyn groped:
With May-wreaths laden, the loving strange child came!
And my pulses that throbbed at sight of her, ten years gone,
Chilled and recoiled at her delicate finger-touch, guessing
Along my brazen-wrought margin, the laud and the blessing
Traced, thro' the vine, thro' the tangle of star and of sun,
By her dead father's name, by Llewellyn's magnificent name.
And even as she stood in the dark, the doom and the horror rushed on me;
(I had weakened my soul, and they won me!)
I felt the desire at my vitals, the unbearable joy that is pain:
With one mad tigerish spring against the dim rafter,
I smote the sweet child in my rage, I smote her with laughter,
And a sound like the rain
73
And I knew that the life in her brain
I had quenched at the stroke, and flung even my darling of yore
Down the resonant, tottering stair, down, down to the centuried door!
Then the swift hurricane,
The clamoring army thronged up from below, my allegiance to claim!
Lean goblins, brown-flecked like a toad, the gnomic horned ghosts,
Imps flickering, quarry-sprites grim, all the din of the dolorous hosts,
All the glory and glee of the cursèd hissed round me and round, as a flame.
And they loosened my hold from the tower, and my hope from the hem
Of the garment of Him who could save, as they jeered! and with speed
Crashed down past the rocks and the wrecks; and the horrible deed
Was done. I was theirs; and I gave up my spirit to them.
74
V.
In a mossy minaretFathoms under, I am set.
All the sea-shapes undulating
At my gates forlorn are waiting,
All the dreary faint-eyed people
Watch me in my hollow steeple,
While the glass-clear city heaves
Oft beneath its earthy eaves.
So in sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
Yestereven and to-morrow,
Thro' the æons, in a cell
Hangs Saint Cadoc's loveless bell,
Orbèd, like a mortal's tear,
On the moony atmosphere,
Bearing, the refrain of time,
Memory, and unrest, and crime.
Thou that hast the world sublime!
I that was free, I am lost, I am damned, I am here!
And whenever a child among men by a blow is dead,
Docile for aye from the deeps must I lift my head,
And from the heathen heart of me that breaks,
The unextinguishable music wakes,
Naught availing, naught deterred.
75
Even as thou, alas! hast heard,
Fallen in awe upon thy knee,
Tolling and wailing, bursting and failing, afar in the ominous sea.
76
A CHOUAN.
From the school-porch at Vannes
Weaponed, the children ran;
One little voice began,
Lark-like ascended:
Weaponed, the children ran;
One little voice began,
Lark-like ascended:
‘Treason is on the wing,
Black vows, and menacing:
March, boys! God save the King!’
Allio ended.
Black vows, and menacing:
March, boys! God save the King!’
Allio ended.
Singing, with sunny head,
Battleward straight he led,
Stones for his captain's bed,
Herbs for his diet:
Battleward straight he led,
Stones for his captain's bed,
Herbs for his diet:
He and his legion brave,
Trouble enough they gave!
Ere the Blues' bullets drave
Them into quiet.
Trouble enough they gave!
Ere the Blues' bullets drave
Them into quiet.
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Spared, with a few as bold,
Once the storm over-rolled,
Allio, twelve years old,
Crept from the clamor;
Once the storm over-rolled,
Allio, twelve years old,
Crept from the clamor;
Came, when the days were brief,
To the old desk in grief,
Thumbing anew the leaf
Of the old grammar.
To the old desk in grief,
Thumbing anew the leaf
Of the old grammar.
Kings out! ... rang the chime,
Kings in! ... answered Time.
In his ignoring clime,
Silent, he studied;
Kings in! ... answered Time.
In his ignoring clime,
Silent, he studied;
Till, ere his youth was done,
For him, the chosen one,
Shepherd disclaimed of none,
Aaron's rod budded.
For him, the chosen one,
Shepherd disclaimed of none,
Aaron's rod budded.
Long, in unbroken round,
Peace on his paths he found;
Saw the glad Breton ground
Husbanded, quarried:
Peace on his paths he found;
Saw the glad Breton ground
Husbanded, quarried:
78
Blessed it, the record saith,
All the years he had breath,
Till the dim eightieth
Snowed on his forehead.
All the years he had breath,
Till the dim eightieth
Snowed on his forehead.
President! ... Emperor! ...
President! ... On the floor
Spake a sharp Senator
Widening his ranges:
President! ... On the floor
Spake a sharp Senator
Widening his ranges:
‘From Paris I impeach
Vannes for disloyal speech;
Send thither troops to teach,
How the world changes!’
Vannes for disloyal speech;
Send thither troops to teach,
How the world changes!’
Down on the peasants then
Rode the Republic's men,
Trampling the corn again,
Miring the flowers;
Rode the Republic's men,
Trampling the corn again,
Miring the flowers;
Hewed thro' the rebels nigh,
Scoffed at the women's cry,
Set the tricolor high
On the church towers.
Scoffed at the women's cry,
Set the tricolor high
On the church towers.
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Pale in his cot that day,
Dying, the pastor lay,
Where still his eye could stray
Up valleys gleaming;
Dying, the pastor lay,
Where still his eye could stray
Up valleys gleaming;
Watchers were at his side;
Prayer unto prayer replied:
Hush! what was that he spied,
Pinnacle-streaming?
Prayer unto prayer replied:
Hush! what was that he spied,
Pinnacle-streaming?
(Nothing was he aware
In his deaf Breton air,—
So gray traditions there
Throve unforgotten,—
In his deaf Breton air,—
So gray traditions there
Throve unforgotten,—
That, by a final chance,
Kings all were led a dance;
Long since, in fickle France,
Sceptres were rotten!)
Kings all were led a dance;
Long since, in fickle France,
Sceptres were rotten!)
Sprang the old lion, still
Live with prodigious will,
To his stone casement-sill;
Foolish and true one!
Live with prodigious will,
To his stone casement-sill;
Foolish and true one!
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Snatched up the blade he bore,
Rough with its rust of yore,
Kissed it, a saint no more—
Only a Chouan!
Rough with its rust of yore,
Kissed it, a saint no more—
Only a Chouan!
Barred from the charging mass
In the choked market-pass,
All he could do, alas!
Now, was to clang it:
In the choked market-pass,
All he could do, alas!
Now, was to clang it:
Nay, more:—‘God save the King!’
With a last clarion ring,
Shot ere he ceased to sing,
Allio sang it.
With a last clarion ring,
Shot ere he ceased to sing,
Allio sang it.
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