University of Virginia Library


296

THE SHADOW HUNT.

Brighter, lighter, ever whiter, bloomed the moonshine on the road,
Fresh and blue the welkin grew, and on we beggars strode,
As fast and free the wind with glee seemed pushing at our load.
Over meadow moved our shadow—two long shadows, black and tall,
Flat and hollow, still they follow like two spirits at our call,
Fast o'er the path as if in wrath, long and boding on the wall.
“Death and time” we sang in rhyme, “wait upon us at our beck;
We've no castle, serf, or vassal, we both land and money lack,
Yet no varlet, clad in scarlet, could more serf-like join our track.”

297

“Hush!” said Davus; “Jesu save us—look behind, and cross your breast;”
Then half trembling, but dissembling, laughing turned, I looking west,
Saw three shadows o'er the meadows move slow through the trees at rest.
“One for me, and one for thee, but this third one comes from Hades,”
Said my fellow, turning yellow, “Tell me, brother, whence this shade is;”
Then he laughs, and both our staffs seizes, screaming, “Virgin aid us.”
A tree beneath, with clenchen teeth, fell my friend as in a swoon,
Then I, dragging, cursed his lagging, turned his white face to the moon,
But he cried, and shrieked, and died, just as night was at its noon.
A grave I dug, and warm and snug left him under the oak tree,
Alone and sad, but double clad, singing through the litany;
On I hurry o'er me scurry white clouds with a windy glee.

298

Heart not sinking, little thinking, suddenly I turned to look;
On the meadows moved three shadows, then my cloak I rent and shook,
Praying, groaning, ruin owning, swift I leaped across a brook.
“Death and hell,” I cried, “are fell; my sin casts its shadow, too;
Saint and devil, good or evil, why a beggar thus pursue?”
Still they follow over hollow, loud the night wind shrieking blew.
As I swoon, the dull, red moon sinks down headlong in a cloud;
I sobbed and groaned, and wept and moaned, in dream I screamed aloud,
But I woke, blue day had broke, and from off me dropped the shroud.
A mile and more the skylarks soar, and the corn rolled like a sea;
Through the dawning of that morning, I could hear, through hedge and tree,
O'er the tillage, from a village, voices chanting litany.