Poems By The Way & Love Is Enough Part 40

Nor shall my tale in measured cadence play About the golden lyre of G.o.ds long gone, Nor dim and doubtful 'twixt the ocean's moan Wail out about the Northern fiddle-bow, Stammering with pride or quivering shrill with woe.

Rather caught up at hazard is the pipe That mixed with scent of roses over ripe, And murmur of the summer afternoon, May charm you somewhat with its wavering tune 'Twixt joy and sadness: whatsoe'er it saith, I know at least there breathes through it my breath

OF PHARAMOND THE FREED

_Scene: In the Kings Chamber of Audience.

MASTER OLIVER and many LORDS and COUNCILLORS_.

A COUNCILLOR

Fair Master Oliver, thou who at all times Mayst open thy heart to our lord and master, Tell us what tidings thou hast to deliver; For our hearts are grown heavy, and where shall we turn to If thus the king's glory, our gain and salvation, Must go down the wind amid gloom and despairing?

MASTER OLIVER

Little may be looked for, fair lords, in my story, To lighten your hearts of the load lying on them.

For nine days the king hath slept not an hour, And taketh no heed of soft words or beseeching.

Yea, look you, my lords, if a body late dead In the lips and the cheeks should gain some little colour, And arise and wend forth with no change in the eyes, And wander about as if seeking its soul-- Lo, e'en so sad is my lord and my master; Yea, e'en so far hath his soul drifted from us.

A COUNCILLOR

What say the leeches? Is all their skill left them?

MASTER OLIVER

Nay, they bade lead him to hunt and to tilting, To set him on high in the throne of his honour To judge heavy deeds: bade him handle the tiller, And drive through the sea with the wind at its wildest; All things he was wont to hold kingly and good.

So we led out his steed and he straight leapt upon him With no word, and no looking to right nor to left, And into the forest we fared as aforetime: Fast on the king followed, and cheered without stinting The hounds to the strife till the bear stood at bay; Then there he alone by the beech-trees alighted; Barehanded, unarmoured, he handled the spear-shaft, And blew up the death on the horn of his father; Yet still in his eyes was no look of rejoicing, And no life in his lips; but I likened him rather To King Nimrod carved fair on the back of the high-seat When the candles are dying, and the high moon is streaming Through window and luffer white on the lone pavement Whence the guests are departed in the hall of the palace.-- --Rode we home heavily, he with his rein loose, Feet hanging free from the stirrups, and staring At a clot of the bear's blood that stained his green kirtle;-- Unkingly, unhappy, he rode his ways homeward.

A COUNCILLOR

Was this all ye tried, or have ye more tidings?

For the wall tottereth not at first stroke of the ram.

MASTER OLIVER

Nay, we brought him a-board the Great Dragon one dawning, When the cold bay was flecked with the crests of white billows And the clouds lay alow on the earth and the sea; He looked not aloft as they hoisted the sail, But with hand on the tiller hallooed to the s.h.i.+pmen In a voice grown so strange, that it scarce had seemed stranger If from the s.h.i.+p Argo, in seemly wise woven On the guard-chamber hangings, some early grey dawning Great Jason had cried, and his golden locks wavered.

Then e'en as the oars ran outboard, and dashed In the wind-scattered foam and the sails bellied out, His hand dropped from the tiller, and with feet all uncertain And dull eye he wended him down to the mids.h.i.+p, And gazing about for the place of the gangway Made for the gate of the bulwark half open, And stood there and stared at the swallowing sea, Then turned, and uncertain went wandering back sternward, And sat down on the deck by the side of the helmsman, Wrapt in dreams of despair; so I bade them turn sh.o.r.eward, And slowly he rose as the side grated stoutly 'Gainst the stones of the quay and they cast forth the hawser.-- Unkingly, unhappy, he went his ways homeward.

A COUNCILLOR

But by other ways yet had thy wisdom to travel; How else did ye work for the winning him peace?

MASTER OLIVER

We bade gather the knights for the goodliest tilting, There the ladies went lightly in glorious array; In the old arms we armed him whose dints well he knew That the night dew had dulled and the sea salt had sullied: On the old roan yet st.u.r.dy we set him astride; So he stretched forth his hand to lay hold of the spear Neither laughing nor frowning, as lightly his wont was When the knights are awaiting the voice of the trumpet.

It awoke, and back beaten from barrier to barrier Was caught up by knights' cries, by the cry of the king.-- --Such a cry as red Mars in the Council-room window May awake with some noon when the last horn is winded, And the bones of the world are dashed grinding together.

So it seemed to my heart, and a horror came o'er me, As the spears met, and splinters flew high o'er the field, And I saw the king stay when his course was at swiftest, His horse straining hard on the bit, and he standing Stiff and stark in his stirrups, his spear held by the midmost, His helm cast a-back, his teeth set hard together; E'en as one might, who, riding to heaven, feels round him The devils unseen: then he raised up the spear As to cast it away, but therewith failed his fury, He dropped it, and faintly sank back in the saddle, And, turning his horse from the press and the turmoil, Came sighing to me, and sore grieving I took him And led him away, while the lists were fallen silent As a fight in a dream that the light breaketh through.-- To the tune of the clinking of his fight-honoured armour Unkingly, unhappy, he went his ways homeward.

A COUNCILLOR

What thing worse than the worst in the budget yet lieth?

MASTER OLIVER

To the high court we brought him, and bade him to hearken The pleading of his people, and pa.s.s sentence on evil.

His face changed with great pain, and his brow grew all furrowed, As a grim tale was told there of the griefs of the lowly; Till he took up the word, mid the trembling of tyrants, As his calm voice and cold wrought death on ill doers-- --E'en so might King Minos in marble there carven Mid old dreaming of Crete give doom on the dead, When the world and its deeds are dead too and buried.-- But lo, as I looked, his clenched hands were loosened, His lips grew all soft, and his eyes were beholding Strange things we beheld not about and above him.

So he sat for a while, and then swept his robe round him And arose and departed, not heeding his people, The strange looks, the peering, the rustle and whisper; But or ever he gained the gate that gave streetward, Dull were his eyes grown, his feet were grown heavy, His lips crooned complaining, as onward he stumbled;-- Unhappy, unkingly, he went his ways homeward.

A COUNCILLOR

Is all striving over then, fair Master Oliver?

MASTER OLIVER

All mine, lords, for ever! help who may help henceforth I am but helpless: too surely meseemeth He seeth me not, and knoweth no more Me that have loved him. Woe worth the while, Pharamond, That men should love aught, love always as I loved!

Mother and sister and the sweetling that scorned me, The wind of the autumn-tide over them sweepeth, All are departed, but this one, the dear one-- I should die or he died and be no more alone, But G.o.d's hatred hangs round me, and the life and the glory That grew with my waning life fade now before it, And leaving no pity depart through the void.

A COUNCILLOR

This is a sight full sorry to see These tears of an elder! But soft now, one cometh.

MASTER OLIVER

The feet of the king: will ye speak or begone?

A NORTHERN LORD

I will speak at the least, whoever keeps silence, For well it may be that the voice of a stranger Shall break through his dreaming better than thine; And lo now a word in my mouth is a-coming, That the king well may hearken: how sayst thou, fair master, Whose name now I mind not, wilt thou have me essay it?

MASTER OLIVER