Maritæ Suæ

1959

They passed the drawbridge with clattering din,
Then he dropped; and only the king rode in
Where his rose of the isles lay dying!

The king blew a blast on his bugle horn;
(Silence!)

No answer came; but faint and forlorn
An echo returned on the cold gray morn,
Like the breath of a spirit sighing.
The castle portal stood grimly wide;

None welcomed the king from that weary ride;
For dead, in the light of the dawning day,
The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay,
Who had yearned for his voice while dying!

The panting steed, with a drooping crest,

Stood weary.

The king returned from her chamber of rest,
The thick sobs choking in his breast;

And, that dumb companion eyeing,

The tears gushed forth which he strove to check;
He bowed his head on his charger's neck:
"O steed, that every nerve didst strain,

Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain

To the halls where my love lay dying!"

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton (1808-1870]

MARITE SUÆ

I

Of all the flowers rising now,
Thou only saw'st the head
Of that unopened drop of snow
I placed beside thy bed.

In all the blooms that blow so fast,
Thou hast no further part,
Save those the hour I saw thee last,
I laid above thy heart.

Two snowdrops for our boy and girl,
A primrose blown for me,

Wreathed with one often-played-with curl
From each bright head for thee.

And so I graced thee for thy grave,
And made these tokens fast
With that old silver heart I gave,

My first gift and my last.

II

I dreamed her babe upon her breast,
Here she might lie and calmly rest
Her happy eyes on that far hill

That backs the landscape fresh and still.

I hoped her thoughts would thrid the boughs
Where careless birds on love carouse,

And gaze those apple-blossoms through
To revel in the boundless blue.

But now her faculty of sight

Is elder sister to the light,

And travels free and unconfined

Through dense and rare, through form and mind.

Or else her life to be complete

Hath found new channels full and meet

Then, O, what eyes are leaning o'er,

If fairer than they were before!

William Philpot [1823-1889]

BALLAD

HE said: "The shadows darken down,

The night is near at hand.

Now who's the friend will follow me

Into the sunless land?

Ballad

"For I have vassals leal and true,

And I have comrades kind,
And wheresoe'er my soul shall speed,
They will not stay behind."

He sought the brother young and blithe
Who bore his spear and shield:

"In the long chase you've followed me,
And in the battle-field.

"Few vows you make; but true's your heart,
And you with me will win."

He said: "God speed you, brother mine,
But I am next of kin."

He sought the friar, the gray old priest
Who loved his father's board.

The friar he turned him to the east
And reverently adored.

He said: "A godless name you bear,
A godless life you've led,
And whoso wins along with you,
His spirit shall have dread.

"Oh, hasten, get your guilty soul
From every burden shriven;
Yet you are bound for flame and dole,
But I am bound for heaven."

He sought the lady bright and proud,
Who sate at his right hand:
"Make haste, O Love, to follow me
Into the sunless land."

She said: "And pass you in your prime?

Heaven give me days of cheer! And keep me from the sunless clime

Many and many a year."

1061

All heavily the sun sank down
Among black clouds of fate.

There came a woman fair and wan
Unto the castle gate.

Through gazing vassals, idle serfs,
So silently she sped!

The winding staircase echoed not
Unto her light, light tread.

His lady eyed her scornfully.
She stood at his right hand;
She said: "And I will follow you
Into the sunless land.

"There is no expiation, none.

A bitter load I bore:

Now I shall love you nevermore,

66

Never and nevermore.

There is no touch or tone of yours

Can make the old love wake." She said: "But I will follow you, Even for the old love's sake."

Oh, he has kissed her on the brow,
He took her by the hand:
Into the sunless land they went,

Into the starless land.

May Kendall (1861

"O THAT "TWERE POSSIBLE"

From "Maud"

O THAT 'twere possible

After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!

"Home They Brought Her Warrior" 1063

When I was wont to meet her
In the silent moody places

Of the land that gave me birth,

We stood tranced in long embraces
Mixed with kisses sweeter, sweeter
Than anything on earth.

A shadow flits before me,

Not thou, but like to thee.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible

For one short hour to see

The souls we loved, that they might tell us

What and where they be!

Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892]

"HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR

DEAD"

From "The Princess"

HOME they brought her warrior dead;
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry.

All her maidens, watching, said,
"She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,

Truest friend and noblest foe;

Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept

Rose a nurse of ninety years,

Set his child upon her knee,-
Like summer tempest came her tears,
"Sweet my child, I live for thee."

Alfred Tennyson [1809-1892]