 | Complete works (1925-27) |  |
74
THE DEATH OF RUDEL
Lift me a little on my bed,
All this day about my head
Sudden sounds have fled and fled
As the waters flee.
All this day about my head
Sudden sounds have fled and fled
As the waters flee.
I look into the sunset red,
I put both hands behind my head
To hear if anything be said,
I lie as one that long is dead;
I pray you, lift me on this bed
That I may hear and see.
I put both hands behind my head
To hear if anything be said,
I lie as one that long is dead;
I pray you, lift me on this bed
That I may hear and see.
So now, you feel my time hath ran,
Men will praise me as they can
For the honour that I wan,
‘This Rudel was a famous man,’
For kings have praisèd me.
Men will praise me as they can
For the honour that I wan,
‘This Rudel was a famous man,’
For kings have praisèd me.
I ask you what avail is this?
Better for a man it is
To have had of her one kiss
That in life and love was his,
Than to have all praise.
Better for a man it is
To have had of her one kiss
That in life and love was his,
Than to have all praise.
Tell me, wherein shall this avail?
For, see, my hands are lean and pale,
And at my heart the warm veins fail,
And I have had my days.
For, see, my hands are lean and pale,
And at my heart the warm veins fail,
And I have had my days.
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And this life of mine has gone
Thro' its times of mirth and moan,
And kiss of maiden had I none,
Tho' I never loved but one
All this life of mine.
Thro' its times of mirth and moan,
And kiss of maiden had I none,
Tho' I never loved but one
All this life of mine.
Help of love have I not had,
And sometimes my heart grew mad,
That all other men were glad
While I went so white and sad
At the revels the king bade
Where they drank their wine.
And sometimes my heart grew mad,
That all other men were glad
While I went so white and sad
At the revels the king bade
Where they drank their wine.
All night long and day by day
While on this ill bed I lay,
Thro' the bloom and balm of May
The same noise have I heard.
While on this ill bed I lay,
Thro' the bloom and balm of May
The same noise have I heard.
The dull waters slipping slow,
The wan waters lapping low,
And no pleasant breath would blow,
And no song would help me so
As one spoken word.
The wan waters lapping low,
And no pleasant breath would blow,
And no song would help me so
As one spoken word.
All this pain avails me not,
Heart and head are weak and hot,
The hope is withered from my thought,
The love is plucked out of my lot
As feathers from a bird.
At Tripoli
Heart and head are weak and hot,
The hope is withered from my thought,
The love is plucked out of my lot
As feathers from a bird.
The sharp cords slacken, the keel sways,
I hear the fretted shingle graze,
A rippling anger stirs and frays
Along the golden water-ways;
We should be close on land.
I hear the fretted shingle graze,
A rippling anger stirs and frays
Along the golden water-ways;
We should be close on land.
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Ah! Christ, that yet for all my pain
In this heart and beating brain
(Lest men say my love were vain),
I might but touch her hand.
In this heart and beating brain
(Lest men say my love were vain),
I might but touch her hand.
I am so tired, I cannot see
The black masts corded over me,
And past my head strange noises flee,
Noises flee and fade.
The black masts corded over me,
And past my head strange noises flee,
Noises flee and fade.
In the light and in the gloom
I feel new faces go and come,
Saddened all, and tender some
As face of any maid.
I feel new faces go and come,
Saddened all, and tender some
As face of any maid.
Ah! the rustle of her feet,
Ah! the murmur faint and sweet,
Thro' the blowing snows that fleet
Round and over me.
Ah! the murmur faint and sweet,
Thro' the blowing snows that fleet
Round and over me.
This is she that I would have;
Lo, the eyes so great and grave,
And the lips of power to save,
That I came to see.
Lo, the eyes so great and grave,
And the lips of power to save,
That I came to see.
I praise God that I shall die,
From thin lips a thin glad cry
Brake as I beheld her nigh,
To praise God for this.
From thin lips a thin glad cry
Brake as I beheld her nigh,
To praise God for this.
Ah! she never saw me yet,
But her pearl-white lids seem wet;
Will she love me or forget
As the manner is?
But her pearl-white lids seem wet;
Will she love me or forget
As the manner is?
77
Her gold hair, heavy and sweet,
Clothes her straight from face to feet,
As she stoops the tresses stroops meet.
Ah, dear Lord, I prayed for it,
I have had her kiss.
(He dies.)
Clothes her straight from face to feet,
As she stoops the tresses stroops meet.
Ah, dear Lord, I prayed for it,
I have had her kiss.
| Complete works (1925-27) | |