 | Gerard's Monument |  |
Valery, proud and patient maid,
Half in sun and half in shade,
Sitting still in the morning hours,
Sorting, binding meadow flowers,
Laying them three, and two, and one,
On a grey stone slab in the eye of the sun.
The orchard grass was high and green,
The sea a breadth of quivering sheen;
The morning sky was deep and blue,
Where boughs and blossoms let it through;
The apple blooms hung white and red
Over the maiden's burnished head.
Half in sun and half in shade,
Sitting still in the morning hours,
Sorting, binding meadow flowers,
Laying them three, and two, and one,
On a grey stone slab in the eye of the sun.
The orchard grass was high and green,
The sea a breadth of quivering sheen;
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Where boughs and blossoms let it through;
The apple blooms hung white and red
Over the maiden's burnished head.
The shells lay hot upon the sand;
The cattle slumbered on the lea,
With scarce a sound upon the land,
And scarce a murmur from the sea—
Save where a little wave more rash,
Broke on the shore with a sudden plash;
Or titterels, nesting on the mere,
Quarrelled more loudly or more near.
The cattle slumbered on the lea,
With scarce a sound upon the land,
And scarce a murmur from the sea—
Save where a little wave more rash,
Broke on the shore with a sudden plash;
Or titterels, nesting on the mere,
Quarrelled more loudly or more near.
Gerard stretched out as if asleep,
I' the grassy shade of the ruined keep;
Lying flat upon his breast,
Lying still, but not at rest;
His face uplifted in his palm,
Set and thoughtful, but not calm;
His lean right hand in rapid flight,
Lining a page but lately white;
His brow contracted to a frown,
His eyelids glancing up and down,
Now on the flowers, that three, two, one,
Lay on their shadows in the sun,
And now upon the vellum sheet
Where all those fading posies sweet
Had seemed to breathe their rainbow breath,
And so to conquer coming death.
I' the grassy shade of the ruined keep;
Lying flat upon his breast,
Lying still, but not at rest;
His face uplifted in his palm,
Set and thoughtful, but not calm;
His lean right hand in rapid flight,
Lining a page but lately white;
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His eyelids glancing up and down,
Now on the flowers, that three, two, one,
Lay on their shadows in the sun,
And now upon the vellum sheet
Where all those fading posies sweet
Had seemed to breathe their rainbow breath,
And so to conquer coming death.
The youth swept down the vellum sheet,
And started sudden to his feet.
“What boots this puny toil?” quoth he,
“This book may live, but what of me?
My father's sword I cannot wield,
I scarce can lift my father's shield,
But—” pausing then, his hungry eye
Fastened as on some phantom nigh,
His breath came thick, his words fell fast:
“God's life! I could have found at last
That stone which men the wide world o'er
Are seeking, but our failing store
Withheld me;—for a spindle's cost,
Wealth, fame, and power—lost, all lost!”
And started sudden to his feet.
“What boots this puny toil?” quoth he,
“This book may live, but what of me?
My father's sword I cannot wield,
I scarce can lift my father's shield,
But—” pausing then, his hungry eye
Fastened as on some phantom nigh,
His breath came thick, his words fell fast:
“God's life! I could have found at last
That stone which men the wide world o'er
Are seeking, but our failing store
Withheld me;—for a spindle's cost,
Wealth, fame, and power—lost, all lost!”
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Then Valery, she too rose upright,
And what if tears bedazed her sight,—
The vaguest vision is most bright:
“Now, holy Mary!”—she was bold,
Her voice it had a ringing tone,—
“I'll gage,” quoth she, “to get the gold,
And haply you will find the stone.”
And what if tears bedazed her sight,—
The vaguest vision is most bright:
“Now, holy Mary!”—she was bold,
Her voice it had a ringing tone,—
“I'll gage,” quoth she, “to get the gold,
And haply you will find the stone.”
She gathered up the buds so fair
And bound them with a golden hair,
Then,—pitiful and gracious maid,—
She kissed, and set them in the shade.
And bound them with a golden hair,
Then,—pitiful and gracious maid,—
She kissed, and set them in the shade.
He looked her in the tearful eyes
So wonder-deep, so wonder-wise;
Then in the shadow of the keep
He laid him down, and feel asleep.
So wonder-deep, so wonder-wise;
Then in the shadow of the keep
He laid him down, and feel asleep.
Old Margery said, as she stood that night
Combing the maiden's locks so bright,
Whence many a spark flew out in the dark:
“The goldsmith will pass at peep of day
To join those gallants in proud array
Who meet to shoot at the Popinjay.”
The maiden's eyes in the dusk shone clear,—
Some eyes would almost seem to hear;—
“And where will they go the morrow?” said she,—
“To Bracklesham Chase,” quoth Margery;
And laughed to herself the while, as tho'
She wist the sun was at work on the snow.
Combing the maiden's locks so bright,
Whence many a spark flew out in the dark:
“The goldsmith will pass at peep of day
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Who meet to shoot at the Popinjay.”
The maiden's eyes in the dusk shone clear,—
Some eyes would almost seem to hear;—
“And where will they go the morrow?” said she,—
“To Bracklesham Chase,” quoth Margery;
And laughed to herself the while, as tho'
She wist the sun was at work on the snow.
| Gerard's Monument | |