 | Christ's Company and Other Poems |  |
101
Waiting.
By the ancient sluice's gate
Here I wait, here I wait;
Here is the sluice with its cramped stone,
Which the shadows dance upon.
Here I wait.
Here I wait, here I wait;
Here is the sluice with its cramped stone,
Which the shadows dance upon.
Here I wait.
Stone, with time-blots red and blue,
And white, the shadows tremble through,
When the sun strikes out through the poplars tall,
And the sun strikes out upon the wall.
Here I wait.
And white, the shadows tremble through,
When the sun strikes out through the poplars tall,
And the sun strikes out upon the wall.
Here I wait.
From the sluice the stream descends
A bowshot; then its running ends
In flags and marsh flowers; then it runs
Bright and broad beneath the suns.
Here I wait.
A bowshot; then its running ends
In flags and marsh flowers; then it runs
Bright and broad beneath the suns.
Here I wait.
102
And to one side of it come down
The walls and roofs of our good town;
The other side for miles away
The willows prick it short and grey.
Here I wait.
The walls and roofs of our good town;
The other side for miles away
The willows prick it short and grey.
Here I wait.
Any moment I might see
My lady in her majesty
Moving on from tree to tree
Where the river runs from me.
Here I wait.
My lady in her majesty
Moving on from tree to tree
Where the river runs from me.
Here I wait.
Any moment she might rise
From the hedgerow, where my eyes
Wait for her without surprise,
While the first bat starts and flies.
Here I wait.
From the hedgerow, where my eyes
Wait for her without surprise,
While the first bat starts and flies.
Here I wait.
Here I lie along the trunk
That swings the heavy sluice-door sunk
In the water, which outstreams
In little runlets from its seams.
Here I wait.
That swings the heavy sluice-door sunk
In the water, which outstreams
In little runlets from its seams.
Here I wait.
The last yellowhammer flits,
The winds begin to shake by fits;
More coldly swing the mists and chase:
Thinking of my lady's face
Here I wait.
The winds begin to shake by fits;
More coldly swing the mists and chase:
Thinking of my lady's face
Here I wait.
103
Like a tower so standeth she,
Built of solid ivory;
Her sad eyes well opened be,
Her wide hair runs darkly free.
Here I wait.
Built of solid ivory;
Her sad eyes well opened be,
Her wide hair runs darkly free.
Here I wait.
Her eyes are like to water-birds
On little rivers, and her words
As little as the lark, which girds
His wings to measure out his words.
Here I wait.
On little rivers, and her words
As little as the lark, which girds
His wings to measure out his words.
Here I wait.
Here the crows come flying late—
One flies past me; past the gate
Of the old sluice another flies;
Heavily upwards they do rise.
Here I wait.
One flies past me; past the gate
Of the old sluice another flies;
Heavily upwards they do rise.
Here I wait.
I am growing thoughtful now;
Will she never kiss my brow?
Solemnly I sit and feel
The edge upon my sword of steel.
Here I wait.
Will she never kiss my brow?
Solemnly I sit and feel
The edge upon my sword of steel.
Here I wait.
If she come, her feet will sound
Not at all upon the ground;
I think upon thy feet, my love,
Red as feet of any dove.
Here I wait.
Not at all upon the ground;
I think upon thy feet, my love,
Red as feet of any dove.
Here I wait.
104
Here my face is white and cold,
Here my empty arms I fold;
Here float down the beds of weeds,
With the fly that on them feeds.
Here I wait.
Here my empty arms I fold;
Here float down the beds of weeds,
With the fly that on them feeds.
Here I wait.
| Christ's Company and Other Poems | |