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Romantic Poetry - 17

The Last Rhyme of True Thomas by Rudyard Kipling

The King has called for priest and cup,
The King has taken spur and blade
To dub True Thomas a belted knight,
And all for the sake o' the songs he made.

They have sought him high, they have sought him low,
They have sought him over down and lea;
They have found him by the milk-white thorn
That guards the gates o' Faerie.

'Twas bent beneath and blue above,
Their eyes were held that they might not see
The kine that grazed beneath the knowes,
Oh, they were the Queens o' Faerie!

'Now cease your song,' the King he said,
'Oh, cease your song and get you dight
To vow your vow and watch your arms,
For I will dub you a belted knight.

'For I will give you a horse o' pride,
Wi' blazon and spur and page and squire;
Wi' keep and tail and seizin and law,
And land to hold at your desire.'

True Thomas smiled above his harp,
And turned his face to the naked sky,
Where, blown before the wastrel wind,
The thistle-down she floated by.

'I ha' vowed my vow in another place,
And bitter oath it was on me,
I ha' watched my arms the lee-long night,
Where five-score fighting men would flee.

'My lance is tipped o' the hammered flame,
My shield is beat o' the moonlight cold;
And I won my spurs in the Middle World,
A thousand fathom beneath the mould.

'And what should I make wi' a horse o' pride,
And what should I make wi' a sword so brown,
But spill the rings o' the Gentle Folk
And flyte my kin in the Fairy Town?

'And what should I make wi' blazon and belt,
Wi' keep and tail and seizin and fee,
And what should I do wi' page and squire
That am a king in my own countrie?

'For I send east and I send west,
And I send far as my will may flee,
By dawn and dusk and the drinking rain,
And syne my Sendings return to me.

'They come wi' news of the groanin' earth,
They come wi' news o' the roarin' sea,
Wi' word of Spirit and Ghost and Flesh,
And man, that's mazed among the three.'

The King he bit his nether lip,
And smote his hand upon his knee:
'By the faith o' my soul, True Thomas,' he said,
'Ye waste no wit in courtesie!

'As I desire, unto my pride,
Can I make Earls by three and three,
To run before and ride behind
And serve the sons o' my body.'

'And what care I for your row-foot earls,
Or all the sons o' your body?
Before they win to the Pride o' Name,
I trow they all ask leave o' me.

'For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth,
As I make Shame wi' mincin' feet,
To sing wi' the priests at the market-cross,
Or run wi' the dogs in the naked street.

'And some they give me the good red gold,
And some they give me the white money,
And some they give me a clout o' meal,
For they be people o' low degree.

'And the song I sing for the counted gold
The same I sing for the white money,
But best I sing for the clout o' meal
That simple people given me.'

The King cast down a silver groat,
A silver groat o' Scots money,
'If I come wi' a poor man's dole,' he said,
'True Thomas, will ye harp to me?'

'Whenas I harp to the children small,
They press me close on either hand.
And who are you,' True Thomas said,
'That you should ride while they must stand?

'Light down, light down from your horse o' pride,
I trow ye talk too loud and hie,
And I will make you a triple word,
And syne, if ye dare, ye shall 'noble me.'

He has lighted down from his horse o' pride,
And set his back against the stone.
'Now guard you well,' True Thomas said,
'Ere I rax your heart from your breast-bone!'

True Thomas played upon his harp,
The fairy harp that couldna lee,
And the first least word the proud King heard,
It harpit the salt tear out o' his ee.

'Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne,
I touch the hope that I may not see,
And all that I did o' hidden shame,
Like little snakes they hiss at me.

'The sun is lost at noon -- at noon!
The dread o' doom has grippit me.
True Thomas, hide me under your cloak,
God wot, I'm little fit to dee!'

'Twas bent beneath and blue above --
'Twas open field and running flood --
Where, hot on heath and dyke and wall,
The high sun warmed the adder's brood.

'Lie down, lie down,' True Thomas said.
'The God shall judge when all is done.
But I will bring you a better word
And lift the cloud that I laid on.'

True Thomas played upon his harp,
That birled and brattled to his hand,
And the next least word True Thomas made,
It garred the King take horse and brand.

'Oh, I hear the tread o' the fighting men,
I see the sun on splent and spear.
I mark the arrow outen the fern
That flies so low and sings so clear!

'Advance my standards to that war,
And bid my good knights prick and ride;
The gled shall watch as fierce a fight
As e'er was fought on the Border side!'

'Twas bent beneath and blue above,
'Twas nodding grass and naked sky,
Where, ringing up the wastrel wind,
The eyas stooped upon the pie.

True Thomas sighed above his harp,
And turned the song on the midmost string;
And the last least word True Thomas made,
He harpit his dead youth back to the King.

'Now I am prince, and I do well
To love my love withouten fear;
To walk wi' man in fellowship,
And breathe my horse behind the deer.

'My hounds they bay unto the death,
The buck has couched beyond the burn,
My love she waits at her window
To wash my hands when I return.

'For that I live am I content
(Oh! I have seen my true love's eyes)
To stand wi' Adam in Eden-glade,
And run in the woods o' Paradise!'

'Twas naked sky and nodding grass,
'Twas running flood and wastrel wind,
Where, checked against the open pass,
The red deer belled to call the hind.

True Thomas laid his harp away,
And louted low at the saddle-side;
He has taken stirrup and hauden rein,
And set the King on his horse o' pride.

'Sleep ye or wake,' True Thomas said,
'That sit so still, that muse so long;
Sleep ye or wake? -- till the latter sleep
I trow ye'll not forget my song.

'I ha' harpit a shadow out o' the sun
To stand before your face and cry;
I ha' armed the earth beneath your heel,
And over your head I ha' dusked the sky.

'I ha' harpit ye up to the throne o' God,
I ha' harpit your midmost soul in three;
I ha' harpit ye down to the Hinges o' Hell,
And -- ye -- would -- make -- a Knight o' me!'

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In Trouble by Edith Nesbit

It's all for nothing: I've lost im now.
I suppose it ad to be:
But oh I never thought it of im,
Nor e never thought it of me.
And all for a kiss on your evening out
An a field where the grass was down ...
And e as gone to God-knows-where,
And I may go on the town.

The worst of all was the thing e said
The night that e went away:
He said e'd a married me right enough
If I adn't a been so gay.
Me, gay! When I'd cried, and I'd asked him not,
But e said e loved me so;
An whatever e wanted seemed right to me ...
An how was a girl to know?

Well, the river is deep, and drowned folk sleep sound,
An it might be the best to do;
But when he made me a light-o-love
He made me a mother too.
I've ad enough sin to last my time,
If twas sin as I got it by,
But it aint no sin to stand by his kid
An work for it till I die.

But oh the long days and the death-long nights
When I feel it move and turn,
And cry alone in my single bed
And count what a girl can earn
To buy the baby the bits of things
He ought to a bought, by rights;
And wonder whether e thinks of Us ...
And if e sleeps sound o' nights.

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Though That Men Do Call it Dotage by Henry VIII

Though that men do call it dotage,
Who loveth not wanteth courage;

And whosoever may love get,
From Venus sure he must it fet

Or else from her which is her heir,
And she to him must seem most fair.

With eye and mind doth both agree.
There is no boot: there must it be.

The eye doth look and represent,
But mind afformeth with full consent.

Thus am I fixed without grudge:
Mine eye with heart doth me so judge.

Love maintaineth all noble courage.
Who love disdaineth is all of the village:

Such lovers--though they take pain--
It were pity they should obtain,

For often times where they do sue
They hinder lovers that would be true.

For whoso loveth should love but once.
Change whoso will, I will be none.

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The Book of Thel by William Blake

THEL'S MOTTO

1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
4 Or Love in a golden bowl?

I

1.1 The daughters of the Seraphim led round their sunny flocks,
1.2 All but the youngest: she in paleness sought the secret air,
1.3 To fade away like morning beauty from her mortal day:
1.4 Down by the river of Adona her soft voice is heard,
1.5 And thus her gentle lamentation falls like morning dew:

1.6 'O life of this our spring! why fades the lotus of the water,
1.7 Why fade these children of the spring, born but to smile and fall?
1.8 Ah! Thel is like a wat'ry bow, and like a parting cloud;
1.9 Like a reflection in a glass; like shadows in the water;
1.10 Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face;
1.11 Like the dove's voice; like transient day; like music in the air.
1.12 Ah! gentle may I lay me down, and gentle rest my head,
1.13 And gentle sleep the sleep of death, and gentle hear the voice
1.14 Of him that walketh in the garden in the evening time.'
1.15 The Lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass,
1.16 Answer'd the lovely maid and said: 'I am a wat'ry weed,
1.17 And I am very small and love to dwell in lowly vales;
1.18 So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head.
1.19 Yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all
1.20 Walks in the valley and each morn over me spreads his hand,
1.21 Saying, 'Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily-flower,
1.22 Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks;
1.23 For thou shalt be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna,
1.24 Till summer's heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs
1.25 To flourish in eternal vales.' Then why should Thel complain?
1.26 Why should the mistress of the vales of Har utter a sigh?'

1.27 She ceas'd and smil'd in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.

1.28 Thel answer'd: 'O thou little virgin of the peaceful valley,
1.29 Giving to those that cannot crave, the voiceless, the o'ertired;
1.30 Thy breath doth nourish the innocent lamb, he smells thy milky garments,
1.31 He crops thy flowers while thou sittest smiling in his face,
1.32 Wiping his mild and meekin mouth from all contagious taints.
1.33 Thy wine doth purify the golden honey; thy perfume,
1.34 Which thou dost scatter on every little blade of grass that springs,
1.35 Revives the milked cow, and tames the fire-breathing steed.
1.36 But Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun:
1.37 I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place?'

1.38 'Queen of the vales,' the Lily answer'd, 'ask the tender cloud,
1.39 And it shall tell thee why it glitters in the morning sky,
1.40 And why it scatters its bright beauty thro' the humid air.
1.41 Descend, O little Cloud, and hover before the eyes of Thel.'

1.42 The Cloud descended, and the Lily bow'd her modest head
1.43 And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.

II

2.1 'O little Cloud,' the virgin said, 'I charge thee tell to me
2.2 Why thou complainest not when in one hour thou fade away:
2.3 Then we shall seek thee, but not find. Ah! Thel is like to thee:
2.4 I pass away: yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.'

2.5 The Cloud then shew'd his golden head and his bright form emerg'd,
2.6 Hovering and glittering on the air before the face of Thel.

2.7 'O virgin, know'st thou not our steeds drink of the golden springs
2.8 Where Luvah doth renew his horses? Look'st thou on my youth,
2.9 And fearest thou, because I vanish and am seen no more,
2.10 Nothing remains? O maid, I tell thee, when I pass away
2.11 It is to tenfold life, to love, to peace and raptures holy:
2.12 Unseen descending, weigh my light wings upon balmy flowers,
2.13 And court the fair-eyed dew to take me to her shining tent:
2.14 The weeping virgin trembling kneels before the risen sun,
2.15 Till we arise link'd in a golden band and never part,
2.16 But walk united, bearing food to all our tender flowers.'

2.17 'Dost thou, O little Cloud? I fear that I am not like thee,
2.18 For I walk thro' the vales of Har, and smell the sweetest flowers,
2.19 But I feed not the little flowers; I hear the warbling birds,
2.20 But I feed not the warbling birds; they fly and seek their food:
2.21 But Thel delights in these no more, because I fade away;
2.22 And all shall say, 'Without a use this shining woman liv'd,
2.23 Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms?' '

2.24 The Cloud reclin'd upon his airy throne and answer'd thus:

2.25 'Then if thou art the food of worms, O virgin of the skies,
2.26 How great thy use, how great thy blessing! Every thing that lives
2.27 Lives not alone nor for itself. Fear not, and I will call
2.28 The weak worm from its lowly bed, and thou shalt hear its voice,
2.29 Come forth, worm of the silent valley, to thy pensive queen.'

2.30 The helpless worm arose, and sat upon the Lily's leaf,
2.31 And the bright Cloud sail'd on, to find his partner in the vale.

III

3.1 Then Thel astonish'd view'd the Worm upon its dewy bed.

3.2 'Art thou a Worm? Image of weakness, art thou but a Worm?
3.3 I see thee like an infant wrapped in the Lily's leaf
3.4 Ah! weep not, little voice, thou canst not speak, but thou canst weep.
3.5 Is this a Worm? I see thee lay helpless and naked, weeping,
3.6 And none to answer, none to cherish thee with mother's smiles.'
3.7 The Clod of Clay heard the Worm's voice and rais'd her pitying head:
3.8 She bow'd over the weeping infant, and her life exhal'd
3.9 In milky fondness: then on Thel she fix'd her humble eyes.

3.10 'O beauty of the vales of Har! we live not for ourselves.
3.11 Thou seest me the meanest thing, and so I am indeed.
3.12 My bosom of itself is cold, and of itself is dark;
3.13 But he, that loves the lowly, pours his oil upon my head,
3.14 And kisses me, and binds his nuptial bands around my breast,
3.15 And says: 'Thou mother of my children, I have loved thee
3.16 And I have given thee a crown that none can take away.'
3.17 But how this is, sweet maid, I know not, and I cannot know;
3.18 I ponder, and I cannot ponder; yet I live and love.'

3.19 The daughter of beauty wip'd her pitying tears with her white veil,
3.20 And said: 'Alas! I knew not this, and therefore did I weep.
3.21 That God would love a Worm I knew, and punish the evil foot
3.22 That wilful bruis'd its helpless form; but that he cherish'd it
3.23 With milk and oil I never knew, and therefore did I weep;
3.24 And I complain'd in the mild air, because I fade away,
3.25 And lay me down in thy cold bed, and leave my shining lot.'

3.26 'Queen of the vales,' the matron Clay answer'd, 'I heard thy sighs,
3.27 And all thy moans flew o'er my roof, but I have call'd them down.
3.28 Wilt thou, O Queen, enter my house? 'Tis given thee to enter
3.29 And to return: fear nothing, enter with thy virgin feet.'

IV

4.1 The eternal gates' terrific porter lifted the northern bar:
4.2 Thel enter'd in and saw the secrets of the land unknown.
4.3 She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous roots
4.4 Of every heart on earth infixes deep its restless twists:
4.5 A land of sorrows and of tears where never smile was seen.

4.6 She wander'd in the land of clouds thro' valleys dark, list'ning
4.7 Dolours and lamentations; waiting oft beside a dewy grave
4.8 She stood in silence, list'ning to the voices of the ground,
4.9 Till to her own grave plot she came, and there she sat down,
4.10 And heard this voice of sorrow breathed from the hollow pit.

4.11 'Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction?
4.12 Or the glist'ning Eye to the poison of a smile?
4.13 Why are Eyelids stor'd with arrows ready drawn,
4.14 Where a thousand fighting men in ambush lie?
4.15 Or an Eye of gifts and graces show'ring fruits and coined gold?
4.16 Why a Tongue impress'd with honey from every wind?
4.17 Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in?
4.18 Why a Nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling, and affright?
4.19 Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy?
4.20 Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?'

4.21 The Virgin started from her seat, and with a shriek
4.22 Fled back unhinder'd till she came into the vales of Har.

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The Shooting of Dan McGrew by Robert W. Service

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;
And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;
With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.
Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do,
And I turned my head -- and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou.

His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze,
Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.
The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool,
So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.
In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands -- my God! but that man could play.

Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;
With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,
A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;
While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars? --
Then you've a haunch what the music meant. . . hunger and night and the stars.

And hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans,
But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means;
For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above;
But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowned with a woman's love --
A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true --
(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, -- the lady that's known as Lou.)

Then on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear;
But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear;
That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil's lie;
That your guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die.
'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it thrilled you through and through --
'I guess I'll make it a spread misere', said Dangerous Dan McGrew.

The music almost died away ... then it burst like a pent-up flood;
And it seemed to say, 'Repay, repay,' and my eyes were blind with blood.
The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,
And the lust awoke to kill, to kill ... then the music stopped with a crash,
And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;
In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And 'Boys,' says he, 'you don't know me, and none of you care a damn;
But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true,
That one of you is a hound of hell. . .and that one is Dan McGrew.'

Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark,
And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark.
Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,
While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that's known as Lou.

These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.
They say that the stranger was crazed with 'hooch,' and I'm not denying it's so.
I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two --
The woman that kissed him and -- pinched his poke -- was the lady that's known as Lou.

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