The poems of Madison Cawein | ||
340
AFTER THE TOURNAMENT
The good Knight, Sir Lionell de Ganis, wounded unto death, addresses his Lady, Evalott, in the Forest of Dean, whither he has been borne on his shield.
I
And shall it be, when white thorns flakeWith blossoms all the Maytime brake,
The rustle of a flower or leaf
Will let thee know
That I am near thee, as thy grief,
As long ago?
II
Or shall it be, when blows and diesThe wood-anemone, two eyes
Will gaze in thine, as faint as frost?
And thou, in dreams,
Wilt hear the sigh of one long lost,
Who near thee seems.
341
III
Or shall it be, where waters sootheThe stillness, thou wilt hear the smooth
Dim notes of a familiar lute,
And in thine ears
Old Provence melodies, long mute,
Like falling tears? . .
IV
Now doff my helm.—Loop thy white armBeneath my hair. So. Let thy warm
Blue eyes gaze in mine for a space,
A little while . . .
Love, it will rest me . . . And thy face—
Ah, let it smile.
V
Now art thou thou. Yet—let thy hair,A golden wonder, fall; thy fair
Full throat bend low; thy kiss be hot
With love, not dry
With anguish.—Sweet, my Evalott!
Now let me die.
The poems of Madison Cawein | ||