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THE BLIND HARPER |
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|
 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
345
THE BLIND HARPER
And so it came that I was led
To wizard walls that haggard hung
Old as their rock, black-mossed and dead,
Wild-swarmed with towers; and, flaming flung
Around them,—far, a moat of red,—
A million poppies sprung.
To wizard walls that haggard hung
Old as their rock, black-mossed and dead,
Wild-swarmed with towers; and, flaming flung
Around them,—far, a moat of red,—
A million poppies sprung.
And here I harped.—All seemed asleep;
Till, hoarse beneath, harsh hinges gnarred
And iron clanged within the Keep:
And then from one gaunt casement, barred
With night, a woman, dim and deep,
Gazed at me long and hard.
Till, hoarse beneath, harsh hinges gnarred
And iron clanged within the Keep:
And then from one gaunt casement, barred
With night, a woman, dim and deep,
Gazed at me long and hard.
To her I sang. And as she leaned
In beauty to me, dark and tall,
And loud I sang of Love, I gleaned
An inkling of her Court withal:
For, lo, above her, watched a Fiend,
Wolf-eyeballed, on the wall.
In beauty to me, dark and tall,
And loud I sang of Love, I gleaned
An inkling of her Court withal:
For, lo, above her, watched a Fiend,
Wolf-eyeballed, on the wall.
346
Still, still I sang. And then she laughed,
Laughed loud and long and evilly;
And in her face I saw was craft
And hate and all the sins that be:
And overhead, with pointed shaft,
The Fiend glared down on me.
Laughed loud and long and evilly;
And in her face I saw was craft
And hate and all the sins that be:
And overhead, with pointed shaft,
The Fiend glared down on me.
Still, still I harped. Then up she leapt,
When loud I sang of Ermengard,
The Queen of Love, whose Court is kept
At Anjou, I, who am her bard!
And from her side a raven swept,
While loud she laughed and hard.
When loud I sang of Ermengard,
The Queen of Love, whose Court is kept
At Anjou, I, who am her bard!
And from her side a raven swept,
While loud she laughed and hard.
Its iron beak had pierced my eyes
Before my mind had half divined
That those wild walls that touched the skies
With Hell-built towers, terror-lined,
Were Lilith's,—mother of lusts and lies,—
Love's foe, who left me blind.
Before my mind had half divined
That those wild walls that touched the skies
With Hell-built towers, terror-lined,
Were Lilith's,—mother of lusts and lies,—
Love's foe, who left me blind.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |