Poems By William Bell Scott |
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| II. | II.A WATCHMAN-SONG. |
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II.A WATCHMAN-SONG.
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WATCHMAN.The night is dark, the wall is black,
And the fosse beneath likewise;
Johannes on the high tower sleeps,
His hound beside him lies.
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Fair lady, scarce now one short hour
Is wanting ere the morn,
And yet I have not dared to say
What this heart long hath borne
Still waiting and waiting for this sweet time,
This rare brief happiness,
To see thee o'er me, to hear thee speak,
Thy hand at least to kiss.
LADY.
I know what thou wouldst say, fair sir,
I know what thou wouldst hear,
Though better that it be not said,—
A dream, a trance, a tear.
Oft have I sat lone days and nights
And trembled at the past,
And sure, fair sir, 'twere better far
This tryste should be our last.
148
2
WATCHMAN.The breeze awakens and the clouds
Scatter dimly overhead,
Trees, and streams and paths appear;
Thy spell, sir knight is sped.
KNIGHT.
Watchman I would tarry until
The kindly brightening east
Shows me once more the face that lights
The shrine whereof I'm priest.
Lady, it may be Lent again
Or ever our voices meet,
Ere I may hold thy hand as now
Through thy little bower window, sweet!
LADY.
Good sir, the daily even-song
Shall bear me back to thee,
While each adventuring helm shall seem
To speak brave thoughts to me.
149
A silent summer's day;
The sun goeth slowly over heaven,
But endeth cheerfully.
3
WATCHMAN.The leaves about the rook's nest stir,
The mist stirs on the fen
Sir Knight, leap down, if thou would'st pass
Unhunted through the glen.
KNIGHT.
Fair lady, leave me not so soon,
And warder, why that fear,
Lady, beyond the seas and hills
My home hath little cheer,
It waits with chapel and tower and hall
Vacant from year to year.
150
Farewell, farewell! if it could be—
Alas! what would I say—
To-morrow at night return again—
Now haste thee, oh haste thee away.
KNIGHT.
Let me yet listen, she is gone,
Then cold blank wall, farewell!
At midnight again—! but oh, blessed wall,
Thou'lt never a secret tell?
WATCHMAN.
Johannes wakes, I hear his hound
Shaking his collar. So!
Step warily, hold fast my hand,
Thank god he is safe below!
And hark, the sun-rise bugle-horn,
Ya tee-ra-lee, ya ho!
| Poems | |