University of Virginia Library


370

WINTER WEATHER

We rode together
In the winter weather
To the broad mead under the hill;
Though the skies did shiver
With the cold, the river
Ran, and was never still.
No cloud did darken
The night; we did hearken
The hound's bark far away.
It was solemn midnight
In that dread dread night
In the years that have passed for aye.
Two rode beside me,
My banner did hide me
As it drooped adown from my lance;
With its deep blue trapping
The mail overlapping,
My gallant horse did prance.
So ever together
In the sparkling weather
Moved my banner and lance;
And its laurel trapping
The steel overlapping,
The stars saw quiver and dance.
We met together
In the winter weather
By the town walls under the hill;
His mail-rings came clinking,
They broke on my thinking,
For the night was hushed and still.

371

Two rode beside him,
His banner did hide him
As it drooped down straight from his lance;
With its blood-red trapping
The mail overlapping,
His mighty horse did prance.
And ever together
In the solemn weather
Moved his banner and lance;
And the holly trapping
The steel overlapping,
Did shimmer and shiver and dance.
Back reined the squires
Till they saw the spires
Over the city wall;
Ten fathoms between us,
No dames could have seen us
Tilt from the city wall.
There we sat upright
Till the full midnight
Should be told from the city chimes;
Sharp from the towers
Leapt forth the showers
Of the many clanging rhymes.
'Twas the midnight hour,
Deep from the tower
Boomed the following bell;
Down go our lances!
Shout for the lances!
The last toll was his knell.

372

There he lay dying;
He had for his lying
A spear in his traitorous mouth;
A false tale made he
Of my true true lady,
But the spear went through his mouth.
In the winter weather
We rode back together
From the broad mead under the hill;
And the cock sang his warning
As it grew toward morning,
But the far-off hound was still.
Black grew his tower
As we rode down lower,
Black from the barren hill;
And our horses strode
Up the winding road
To the gateway dim and still.
At the gate of his tower
In the quiet hour
We laid his body there;
But his helmet broken
We took as a token;
Shout for my lady fair!
We rode back together
In the winter weather
From the broad mead under the hill;
No cloud did darken
The night; we did hearken
How the hound bayed from the hill.