 | A Fair Death |  |
1
He crowned
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
In battle, fighting for the blameless King.
Idylls of the King.
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
In battle, fighting for the blameless King.
Idylls of the King.
3
TO MY MOTHER.
5
A FAIR DEATH
PROLOGUE.
A vacant hour the simplest song may fill,
And as for this I pray thee scorn it not,
Though 'tis an old tale told with little skill,
Yet it may chance to make thy heart grow hot
Hearing of ancient names still unforgot,
Whose memory fame shall never cease to crown
Till on a silent world the stars look down.
And as for this I pray thee scorn it not,
Though 'tis an old tale told with little skill,
Yet it may chance to make thy heart grow hot
Hearing of ancient names still unforgot,
Whose memory fame shall never cease to crown
Till on a silent world the stars look down.
Nor in thy thoughts shall these alone find place,
The heroes of a warfare long since sped;
For thou hast seen that in this later race
The sacred fire of knighthood is not dead,
But still upon the pure heart's altar fed
With faith unfailing its eternal flame
Burns towards the kindred heaven from which it came.
The heroes of a warfare long since sped;
For thou hast seen that in this later race
The sacred fire of knighthood is not dead,
But still upon the pure heart's altar fed
With faith unfailing its eternal flame
Burns towards the kindred heaven from which it came.
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So shalt thou hear above my homely rhymes
The music of a far diviner lay,
And while I sing the song of olden times,
The tender memories of a nearer day
Shall whisper to thy dreaming heart and say—
“He also fought this fight, his labours cease,
He too with these shall come again in peace.”
The music of a far diviner lay,
And while I sing the song of olden times,
The tender memories of a nearer day
Shall whisper to thy dreaming heart and say—
“He also fought this fight, his labours cease,
He too with these shall come again in peace.”
7
A FAIR DEATH.
He crowned
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
In battle, fighting for the blameless King.
Idylls of the King.
A happy life with a fair death, and fell
In battle, fighting for the blameless King.
Idylls of the King.
Far through the frosty night, with joyful sound,
The bells of Camelot were ringing clear
What time King Arthur and his Table Round,
With long-accustomed rites of festal cheer,
Welcomed the dawning of another year;
Nor dreamed, amid their forward-looking mirth,
This was the last of all their years on earth.
The bells of Camelot were ringing clear
What time King Arthur and his Table Round,
With long-accustomed rites of festal cheer,
Welcomed the dawning of another year;
Nor dreamed, amid their forward-looking mirth,
This was the last of all their years on earth.
Yet while their eager talk from laughing lips
Through days of endless triumph still must range,
The first faint shadow of the dread eclipse
Of all that splendour even now brought change
On Arthur's brow, and memories sad and strange
Troubled his heart, and still he seemed alone
For all the clamorous throng about his throne.
Through days of endless triumph still must range,
The first faint shadow of the dread eclipse
Of all that splendour even now brought change
On Arthur's brow, and memories sad and strange
Troubled his heart, and still he seemed alone
For all the clamorous throng about his throne.
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Till at the last he slowly raised his head
And cried, “My knights, ere yet the feast be done,
“Pledge we the memory of the noble dead
“And the great deeds whereby this realm was won.”
So drank they silent, and thereafter none
Talked but of days that should not come again
And those old friends whereof their youth was fain.
And cried, “My knights, ere yet the feast be done,
“Pledge we the memory of the noble dead
“And the great deeds whereby this realm was won.”
So drank they silent, and thereafter none
Talked but of days that should not come again
And those old friends whereof their youth was fain.
Of famous fights and names remembered well
Once more with pride and pity at heart they spoke,—
Of Amant that in righteous quarrel fell,
And Balin brave that struck the dolorous stroke,
And Pelleas, whose young heart betrayal broke;
And many more not less than these renowned
Who died for honour of the Table Round.
Once more with pride and pity at heart they spoke,—
Of Amant that in righteous quarrel fell,
And Balin brave that struck the dolorous stroke,
And Pelleas, whose young heart betrayal broke;
And many more not less than these renowned
Who died for honour of the Table Round.
But one no man dare name until the King
Cried unto him that watched beside the door,
“What of the Knight that kept in guard my ring,
“Graved with my signet, and thereon he swore
“True service all his days, but came no more?
“Surely somewhere he lies in bonds or death,
“Or even yet will come to keep his faith.”
Cried unto him that watched beside the door,
“What of the Knight that kept in guard my ring,
“Graved with my signet, and thereon he swore
“True service all his days, but came no more?
“Surely somewhere he lies in bonds or death,
“Or even yet will come to keep his faith.”
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Then answered Gawain, mocking as of old,
“Nay, nay, my King! fear not so hard a fate,
“No death nor bonds have this thy Knight in hold,
“But these six years that we his coming wait
“Somewhere in languid ease and silken state
“He dwells among the heathen nothing loth,
“Nor wilt thou see him more for all his oath.”
“Nay, nay, my King! fear not so hard a fate,
“No death nor bonds have this thy Knight in hold,
“But these six years that we his coming wait
“Somewhere in languid ease and silken state
“He dwells among the heathen nothing loth,
“Nor wilt thou see him more for all his oath.”
But Arthur, angry at the thing he heard,
And angrier that he could not find reply,
Rose with a frown and answering not a word
Strode from the hall majestic, while his eye
Flashed scorn on him that mocked at all things high,
Gawain, who paled, and jeered no more aloud,
But followed muttering behind the crowd.
And angrier that he could not find reply,
Rose with a frown and answering not a word
Strode from the hall majestic, while his eye
Flashed scorn on him that mocked at all things high,
Gawain, who paled, and jeered no more aloud,
But followed muttering behind the crowd.
Now turn we unto him of whom they spake,
Who six years since had wandered from the town,
Where 'neath tbe summer sun the woodland brake
Showed green and cool, and therein laid him down,
And for a moment half relaxed the frown
That knit his brow, and half forgot the pain
That banished slumber from his aching brain.
Who six years since had wandered from the town,
Where 'neath tbe summer sun the woodland brake
Showed green and cool, and therein laid him down,
And for a moment half relaxed the frown
That knit his brow, and half forgot the pain
That banished slumber from his aching brain.
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Weary he was of all things here in truth,
Weary of endless war and endless quest,
And thinking on the pleasant years of youth,
Of all fair fortunes that he held the best,
That gives to men calm days of peaceful rest,
And knightly vows a burden now he deemed,
And honour vain and fame too dear-esteemed.
Weary of endless war and endless quest,
And thinking on the pleasant years of youth,
Of all fair fortunes that he held the best,
That gives to men calm days of peaceful rest,
And knightly vows a burden now he deemed,
And honour vain and fame too dear-esteemed.
So musing with rebellious heart he lay
Till in the West the daylight faded quite,
And the faint sunset breezes ceased to sway
The sighing leaves, and with a strange delight
The soft warm silence of the summer night
Stole on his ever-darkening sense, and soon
Spell-bound he slept beneath the rising moon.
Till in the West the daylight faded quite,
And the faint sunset breezes ceased to sway
The sighing leaves, and with a strange delight
The soft warm silence of the summer night
Stole on his ever-darkening sense, and soon
Spell-bound he slept beneath the rising moon.
Hour after hour the whelming tide of sleep
Dim-lit with dreams rolled over him, till dawn
Into the Eastern sky began to creep
And slowly from the dark abyss upborne
To light and life, he raised his eyes forlorn,
Thinking to see the well-remembered glade
Where yesternight his weary head he laid.
Dim-lit with dreams rolled over him, till dawn
Into the Eastern sky began to creep
And slowly from the dark abyss upborne
To light and life, he raised his eyes forlorn,
Thinking to see the well-remembered glade
Where yesternight his weary head he laid.
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But now the place was changed, and brighter showed,
And lovelier than all lands of men most praised,
And in his wondering eyes a strange hope glowed,
And half-forgotten legends as he gazed
Stirred in his memory, till no more amazed
He knew that fairyland before him lay
Flushed with the springing of no earthly day.
And lovelier than all lands of men most praised,
And in his wondering eyes a strange hope glowed,
And half-forgotten legends as he gazed
Stirred in his memory, till no more amazed
He knew that fairyland before him lay
Flushed with the springing of no earthly day.
In the clear splendour of that ampler air,
Far purple hills he saw and shadowy trees,
And crystal lakes wherein were mirrored fair
Aerial towers and cloudlike palaces,
And troops of flower-girt maidens midst of these
That turned to greet him, led by one whose grace
Bowed all before her in that glorious place.
Far purple hills he saw and shadowy trees,
And crystal lakes wherein were mirrored fair
Aerial towers and cloudlike palaces,
And troops of flower-girt maidens midst of these
That turned to greet him, led by one whose grace
Bowed all before her in that glorious place.
Fair as the dawn she was, with radiant eyes,
That told of thoughts from earthly cares remote;
And laughing lips, and cheeks with sweet surprise
Faint-flushed, and golden hair that seemed to float
Softer than sunlight round her tender throat;
Such and so beautiful she came, once seen
Loved more than life, once loved for ever queen.
That told of thoughts from earthly cares remote;
And laughing lips, and cheeks with sweet surprise
Faint-flushed, and golden hair that seemed to float
Softer than sunlight round her tender throat;
Such and so beautiful she came, once seen
Loved more than life, once loved for ever queen.
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With gracious words and low she welcomed him,
And even as she spoke of little worth
His old life seemed, and far away and dim
The joys and sorrows of the toiling earth,
And in his longing heart new hopes had birth,
And on his soul, unknown before, there passed
The fear of death, that waits for all at last.
And even as she spoke of little worth
His old life seemed, and far away and dim
The joys and sorrows of the toiling earth,
And in his longing heart new hopes had birth,
And on his soul, unknown before, there passed
The fear of death, that waits for all at last.
But in his face she saw his thought and cried,
“Fear not, for thou shalt drink before my throne,
“Ere seven times the golden day hath died,
“The draught of life, and wear the changeless crown,
“And lay the burden of thy service down,
“Casting away the ring that binds thee still
“Unto the earth that wrought thee all this ill.”
“Fear not, for thou shalt drink before my throne,
“Ere seven times the golden day hath died,
“The draught of life, and wear the changeless crown,
“And lay the burden of thy service down,
“Casting away the ring that binds thee still
“Unto the earth that wrought thee all this ill.”
So they twain passed within the magic gate,
And there awhile he dwelt, and morn and night
Still found him well content, secure of fate,
And numbering not the hours of his delight;
And still as day by day Time wheeled his flight
Above that land enchanted, even so
Year followed year upon the earth below.
And there awhile he dwelt, and morn and night
Still found him well content, secure of fate,
And numbering not the hours of his delight;
And still as day by day Time wheeled his flight
Above that land enchanted, even so
Year followed year upon the earth below.
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But now when thrice and thrice again the stars
Had paled before the dawn, and Camelot
And Arthur's Table Round and all their wars
Were but a fading dream wellnigh forgot,
He stood at last within a garden plot,
Where on a grassy throne the queen held up
The death-destroying all-forgetful cup.
Had paled before the dawn, and Camelot
And Arthur's Table Round and all their wars
Were but a fading dream wellnigh forgot,
He stood at last within a garden plot,
Where on a grassy throne the queen held up
The death-destroying all-forgetful cup.
Sweet fell the songs of fayland on his ear,
With drowsy plash the ceaseless fountain leapt,
Deep peace on all things brooded far and near,
And softly through the leaves a light wind swept,
And silently the shadows onward crept;
And unto him no gift seemed great to give
That he for ever in that land might live.
With drowsy plash the ceaseless fountain leapt,
Deep peace on all things brooded far and near,
And softly through the leaves a light wind swept,
And silently the shadows onward crept;
And unto him no gift seemed great to give
That he for ever in that land might live.
Yet amid all this, in his languid heart,
Trembled a pang of half-awakened pain,
As he beheld the cup that was to part
His life from earth, and in his dreaming brain
Old voices echoed, and he saw again
Old faces that he loved in long past years,
That nevermore should move his hopes or fears.
Trembled a pang of half-awakened pain,
As he beheld the cup that was to part
His life from earth, and in his dreaming brain
Old voices echoed, and he saw again
Old faces that he loved in long past years,
That nevermore should move his hopes or fears.
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But now the cup was set within his hand,
And as he grasped the stem the fay queen said—
“Behold, a moment, and thy feet shall stand
“Beyond the gulf, and thou shalt be as dead
“To all who on the earth with love or dread
“Have seen thy face, and in this happy life
“Forget the very name of toil and strife.”
And as he grasped the stem the fay queen said—
“Behold, a moment, and thy feet shall stand
“Beyond the gulf, and thou shalt be as dead
“To all who on the earth with love or dread
“Have seen thy face, and in this happy life
“Forget the very name of toil and strife.”
Thereat he raised his trembling hand to drink,
And softer yet the fairy chorus sang,
But ere his lips could touch the fateful brink,
Sudden and sharp a trumpet-peal outrang,
And died away amid the steely clang
Of spear on shield, and voices faint and shrill
Clamoured far off, and all again was still.
And softer yet the fairy chorus sang,
But ere his lips could touch the fateful brink,
Sudden and sharp a trumpet-peal outrang,
And died away amid the steely clang
Of spear on shield, and voices faint and shrill
Clamoured far off, and all again was still.
His throbbing heart with sudden memory beat
Of the fair land where lay his ancient home;
He dashed the cup beneath his eager feet
And cried, with a loud voice, “My Lord, I come.”
For well he knew beside the Western foam
That trumpet blast had called to sword and helm
The noblest chivalry of Arthur's realm.
Of the fair land where lay his ancient home;
He dashed the cup beneath his eager feet
And cried, with a loud voice, “My Lord, I come.”
For well he knew beside the Western foam
That trumpet blast had called to sword and helm
The noblest chivalry of Arthur's realm.
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Before his eyes, ablaze with glorious fire,
The fairy circle melted into air
And floated upwards, but the mocking choir
Sang, as they passed, of days of black despair
And strife and death in deserts waste and bare;
But nought he heeded for his soul was glad
That yet one day for noble deeds he had.
The fairy circle melted into air
And floated upwards, but the mocking choir
Sang, as they passed, of days of black despair
And strife and death in deserts waste and bare;
But nought he heeded for his soul was glad
That yet one day for noble deeds he had.
Steadfast he signed the cross and therewithal
Thick darkness came like night before his face;
Hurled by resistless force he seemed to fall
Headlong and blind through never-ending space,
Till once again he made the sign of grace,
Whereat the terror of that breathless flight
Ceased, and he passed from darkness into light.
Thick darkness came like night before his face;
Hurled by resistless force he seemed to fall
Headlong and blind through never-ending space,
Till once again he made the sign of grace,
Whereat the terror of that breathless flight
Ceased, and he passed from darkness into light.
And now upon the shore of Lyonnesse
His feet were set, and snatching shield and sword
From a dead warrior's hand, amid the press
He rushed impetuous where he saw his lord
With his last faithful few against a horde
Of heathen and of traitors holding still
The Dragon standard on the death-strewn hill.
His feet were set, and snatching shield and sword
From a dead warrior's hand, amid the press
He rushed impetuous where he saw his lord
With his last faithful few against a horde
Of heathen and of traitors holding still
The Dragon standard on the death-strewn hill.
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EPILOGUE.
Within the Western land his grave is green,
No sound of strife shall ever reach him there,
Nor any memory of what hath been
Trouble his rest nor any coming care,
Nor ring of arms nor battle-trumpet's blare
Startle the echoes by the lonely steep
Where lies that faithful heart in slumber deep.
No sound of strife shall ever reach him there,
Nor any memory of what hath been
Trouble his rest nor any coming care,
Nor ring of arms nor battle-trumpet's blare
Startle the echoes by the lonely steep
Where lies that faithful heart in slumber deep.
No shepherd's voice comes there, nor rustling feet
Of huntsman ranging ere the dews are dried,
Nor song of reapers in the noonday heat,
Nor maiden's laughter at the eventide;
But far from all men on that mountain side,
Morning and eve the sweet birds ever sing
The dirge of him who guarded Arthur's ring.
Of huntsman ranging ere the dews are dried,
Nor song of reapers in the noonday heat,
Nor maiden's laughter at the eventide;
But far from all men on that mountain side,
Morning and eve the sweet birds ever sing
The dirge of him who guarded Arthur's ring.
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The streamlet babbles in the sunlight clear,
The wild bees murmur in the golden broom,
The tall reeds whisper to the rippling mere,
And the faint breeze from every sweetest bloom
Its tribute bearing, sighs above the tomb,
Where freed from toil, forgetting grief and pain,
He sleeps until his King shall come again.
The wild bees murmur in the golden broom,
The tall reeds whisper to the rippling mere,
And the faint breeze from every sweetest bloom
Its tribute bearing, sighs above the tomb,
Where freed from toil, forgetting grief and pain,
He sleeps until his King shall come again.
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ENVOY.
Not only those dim ages long ago
Saw knightly deeds, pure life, and loyal death,
Nay, dearest, thou and I with glad hearts know
How, till he yielded up his latest breath,
Setting eternal seal to life-long faith,
The noble soul we loved and love so well
In a more glorious battle fought and fell.
Saw knightly deeds, pure life, and loyal death,
Nay, dearest, thou and I with glad hearts know
How, till he yielded up his latest breath,
Setting eternal seal to life-long faith,
The noble soul we loved and love so well
In a more glorious battle fought and fell.
What though his toil hath won no earthly fame,
Though hurrying Time, with feet unheard, unseen,
Tread out the very letters of his name,
Yet shall not God remember what hath been?
When Death and Time are both forgotten clean,
Shall not the glory of his Master's praise
Crown the long labour of his faithful days?
Though hurrying Time, with feet unheard, unseen,
Tread out the very letters of his name,
Yet shall not God remember what hath been?
When Death and Time are both forgotten clean,
Shall not the glory of his Master's praise
Crown the long labour of his faithful days?
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Wherefore amid the great town's smoke and roar,
Its thronging life, its laughter, and its tears,
Among the men he loved, for evermore
Untouched by earthly hopes and earthly fears,
His rest is deep through all the changing years,
Where freed from toil, forgetting grief and pain,
He sleeps until his King shall come again.
Its thronging life, its laughter, and its tears,
Among the men he loved, for evermore
Untouched by earthly hopes and earthly fears,
His rest is deep through all the changing years,
Where freed from toil, forgetting grief and pain,
He sleeps until his King shall come again.
| A Fair Death | |