Complete works of willia.., p.537
Complete Works of William Morris, page 537
With hands not touching aught – heart free from heart
Yet scarcely lonely though so nigh apart
She answered not save only with a sigh
And in the dusk eve did he deem withal
He saw her smile – but those drew anigh
Who bore the torches and the flowers did fall
Brushed by the stiff gold robes as toward the hall
They passed together talking of such things
As well befit the lives of Queens & Kings
High feast in hall that eve, great joyance there
Of pageant and of song while men did eat
The very maidens that the cups did bear
About the Gothic guests adorned seat
Were clad in raiment for Kings daughters meet
And as the scented tapers burned away
From off their sides waned figures painted gay
Scarcely the Goths deemed they had seen ere then
Such weight of gold and silver nobly wrought
Or such rich raiment on the serving men
Or drank such goodly wine from far lands brought
Shortly to say in glory passing thought
Such careful state as though mens lives should last
For everto its midst that great feast passed
Then flushed were men with glory and with wine
And many rash word to their lips did rise
As more and more they deemed themselves divine
But Randver sat with restless troubled eyes
Glancing about aweary anxious wise
From Bikkis laugh and the Kings merry face
To Gudruns sad set smile, till the glad place
Seemed filled with foolish shadows round about
Dread lurking hate and guile & baffled love
And yet a strange hope struggled with his doubt
And whiles his heart beat high with thought to prove
How yet his secret love the world should move
For now at last he knew how it should be
When he that face the worlds desire should see
Now made the King a sign and forthwithal
Loud sang the shattering gainst the high
Adorned roof and down the joyous hall
Was silence when their noise died utterly –
And then afar off a low melody
Sprang up and seemed drawing nigh but slow
As if the folk who made it lingered now
Then Randvar noted Bikki grow right grave
And how the Queen flushed and the King meanwhile
Seemed struggling all his kingly grace to save
From mere delight – and Randver a faint smile
Strove somewhat his wild faintness to beguile
And even this he said. “If it should be
That all my hope was but vain mockery
But amid this the music grew all loud,
The hall doors swung aback and through them came
Into the hall so fair and strange a crowd
That the Goths’ wonder has not any name –
For in their foremost did great tapers flame
And down the hall a day like lustre shed
From hands of damsels white clad garlanded
Then came the music maids and children fair
Flushed sweet with summer bright eyed with delight
So clad that cantles of the meads seemed there
Whereas their raiment neath young limbs & light
Went wavering underneath the harp strings bright
Down the hall there came a marvellous scent
As though the summer through its portals went
More maids withal each holding in her hand
Lily or rose bough clad in such a wise
As though the summer never left the land
And they need hide but little from the eyes
Of the brown thrush hushed by the mysteries
the dove, that in the shade
Of moon blessed woods now on the high tree swayed
But round the hindermost of these were slung
Baskets of thin woven silver wherefrom they
Sweet roseleaves on the marble pavement flung
Making thereon a soft and odorous way
For feet that were to follow and the day
Might well come back for midmost night to show
Her aspect that adown that path did go
Gold-clad she was, gold-shod & crowned with gold
So that her raiment like herself might seem
Too delicate for mere men to behold
Yet she herself looked not like any dream
Nay rather mid the changing flush and gleam
Of moving limbs and waving raiment she
Seemed the one noble fair reality –
I know not what within her eyes there was
More than in other sweet and passionate eyes
I know not what across her mouth did pass
More than oer others wrought in wondrous wise
With what snare heaved the storehouse of her sighs
More than anothers wrought supremely fair
Yet went all madness and desire there
Whereas she went with adown the silent hall
Not stern nor kind nor glad nor sorry at all
Nor might one call her eager or at peace
Nor full of love nor lacking love’s increase
And yet above and ruling all of these
Not bound by love nor binding it but more
Herself the very love she did adore
The hall was silent for a while and then
Up lepd the Goths unto their feet, and high
Their wild shout rang and in the hands of men
Gleamed the white steel and tossed tumultuously
Round the white face of Randver but one cry
Unheard amid the tumult had he given
As though his heart with unnamed pangs was riven
Bikki himself was pale a little while
And a strange frown made dark his wide clear brow
That gave place soon unto a lip made smile
The eyes might make no answer to – but now
She drew anigh – King Jonak flushed did grow
And raised his cup twice then spake out & said
O Kings son have thou here the goodlihead
That thou hast asked for for thy fathers sake
Knowing not what thou askedst, and thou maid –
Draw nigh unto him give a kiss and take –
For he is now thy son – as the King said
These words gan Gudrun tremble & she laid
Her hands upon her chair as if to rise
Gazing about with wild & wandering eyes
But Randver when he felt her hand in his
And all the heaven of her sweet lips drew nigh
Faltered no more nor shrank away from bliss
When on his lips at last her lips did lie
And when the little space had clean gone by
Wherein they touched so, a strange happy smile
The pallor of his changed face did beguile –
But she was changed and for a little space
Piteous & wild her eyes were till at last
They met as in a dream her mothers face
Kind and imploring, then the anguish passed
From out her face and round about she cast
A glance by inner agony made cold
But durst no more the princes eyes behold
Yet must she sit betwixt him and her sire
And hearken to his voice and wonder how
Amid the bitterness of his desire
He spake of common things for surely now
She did not fail her heart & his to know
And she fell wondering when the time should be
When she alone his lonely eyes should see
Strange minutes heavy laden to these twain
With bitterness and joy, so real so strange
Wherein now nothing more seemed left to gain,
Now nothing gained of all the wondrous change
Had left them yearning for and still did range
From utter woe to utter bliss each heart
So close they seemed now now so far apart
Meanwhile who noted them – Bikki talked loud
With flushed face, and the King sat glad and smiled
With lips & eyes & heard – Gudrun was bowed
Over the board as somewhat now beguiled
With thought of past days – and the joy waxed wild
Within the hall among the rest of folk
Until the pale dawn oer the garden broke
Then as a burnt-down torch out the feast flared
And through the town & palace noisily
The guests unto their wonted dwellings fared
Then in the gathering light oer all did lie
Deep silence but no rest of heart or eye
For those that love from all the world made lone
Who lone of love lay that hour was gone
In tilt and pageant and high feast went by
The next few days Randver saw Swanhild oft
But never so but some one was anigh
Whether he saw her glorious eyes aloft
Above the spears or heard her speaking soft
Anigh him, or they passed so close that each
Might feel the others breath their parch lips reach
Howere they met still flickering shadows seemed
To part their hands & lips and hearts & make
Their lives a dream without their own wills dreamed
A dream that feverish pain should neer forsake
Wherefrom perchance they never should awake
With no more hope than hell yet sweet indeed
As Heaven’s neer parched neer frozen blessed mead
So shall it be thought Randver many a day
Till all days end for us why must change needs be
Why must we strive to cast this pain away
And in the gulf of all uncertainty
Go struggling till again we come to see
All things as others see them with no hope
With all the dread ourselves have made to cope
WHY WEEPETH HE?
Why weepeth he? Why weepeth he?
Above whose head the beech boughs be,
Past whom doth whizz the humble-bee.
Why weeps he so? Why weeps he so,
Past whom the pleasant stream doth go
And, as it goeth, singeth low.
He lieth on a little mound,
His head is lying on the ground,
He clutcheth at the grass around.
Alack! He weepeth evermore
For faces he may see no more,
He weepeth for his lonely door,
Whereto their feet will never come,
Through which will never sound the hum
Of loving friends; O! they are dumb.
The years have passed by his love,
He prayeth yet to God above;
Unloving prayer will never move
The loving one who lives on high
Who, on the cross against the sky,
Showed such love when he did die.
And yet his dread prayers answered were
That from his great heart he might tear
The love, that beat through everywhere;
Though all his life, his pulses strong
Through which the fierce blood leapt along,
His lovely voice, where long, and long,
The sweet notes after he did speak
Did roll about the heart, and breathe
In joyous showers bringing ache,
They were so sweet they brought a pain
About the heart, about the brain,
Then came the sweetness back again.
O! love was round him like a sea;
The love of all fair things that be.
The love of every beauteous tree;
The love of birds that skim along,
The love of ringing olden song,
The love of churches, where the long,
Long sunbeam striketh down the nave,
Upon the place where banners wave,
Upon the ancient warrior’s grave;
The love of men that never die,
In many lands their bodies lie,
Their music, and their truth are nigh.
The love of those that come and go
About him, O! they loved him so,
And he loved them — but long ago.
The love of one whose eyes were deep
And through her eyes the thoughts did sweep,
Her smile would almost make you weep;
So much her eyes held sympathy
With all the sad, sad things that be
In loving, loved, humanity.
Solemn the mountains are, and vast,
A crown of clouds about them cast.
Yea, here the clouds cling, they have past
From off the clear sky overhead
Which waiteth, trembling, for the red,
Which waiteth till the sun be dead.
For now the sun is very low,
No clouds across the zenith go,
The sun is dying, wind is low.
O me! the solemn East behind,
The moon is coming up the wind,
The light, calm, westward-blowing wind.
The moon she goeth westernly,
The woods look up entrancedly,
In morning light the moon will die.
Ah! All things die, and come again,
Ah! All things, but the feet of men,
They die, and never come again.
THE ABBEY AND THE PALACE: STANDING AWAY FROM THE CORNFIELDS
The Abbey and the Palace
Standing away from the corn-fields
On a grey, grey day,
With the east wind blowing
Past the pillars, and showing
The backs of the ivy leaves;
Standing away from the corn-fields
Where the children play,
Where the wind is blowing
Up the hill, and going
Past the shining golden sheaves;
Standing away from all men
In October weather
A grey tower lifting,
Where the grey clouds are shifting,
Four great arches stood:
Beneath them lay the tall men
Who have fought together.
There the old monks lay
And the wind moaned well-a-day
For their chaunt through the wood.
Lying there in the choir
By the ruined wall
With his hands clasped together,
Praying there for ever,
Look at the stone-carved Knight.
And about lies the shivered spire
Once so tall, so tall,
And the crow flies over
The head of the lover,
Of him was brave in fight.
And if the crow keeps flying
Through the grey, grey air
He will see as he flyeth
A palace that lieth
With shivered marble around;
He will hear the east wind dying
Past the marble there;
He will see it all roofless,
All ruined and roofless
With the marble on the ground.
Now the wind beats heavily
Round the tower, that steadily
Stands upon the arches four;
And the wind blows wearily
Round the palace, drearily
Standing, walls without a floor.
BALLAD: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN SO LONG TO-DAY?
Where have you been so long to-day?
Tell me true, sweet Step-daughter.
To my brother’s house I went to play:
Something hurts me, Step-mother.
What did you eat for dinner there?
Roasted eels and black pepper.
What did you do with the broken meat?
I gave them to my dogs to eat.
What then did to your dogs betide?
The flesh fell from them that they died.
What do you leave to your father dear?
My barn of wheat to make good cheer.
And what will you leave to your brother dear?
My great ship that sails everywhere.
And what will you leave to your sister dear?
My gold that shineth red and clear.
And what will you leave to your Step-mother?
The flames of Hell I leave to her.
And what then will you leave your nurse?
Mother, what can I wish her worse?
BALLAD: MALMSTON HAD A DREAM IN THE NIGHT
Malmston had a dream in the night
That harm had come to his heart’s delight.
He called his pages fair and free:
“Get up and saddle the grey for me.
Get up in haste and saddle the grey;
I must see my love before the day.”
As he rode through the greves green?
He saw two ladies well beseen.
The one of them was dressed in blue.
“My Lord Malmston, what aileth you?”
The other of them was dressed in blue.
“My Lord Malmston, what aileth you?”
The other of them was dressed in red.
“O, who is sick, and who is dead?”
“No one is sick; no one is dead,
But the Lord of Malmston’s love,” she said.
But as he drew anight the town
He saw the bier a-coming down.
He let his horse loose hastily,
And by the dead corpse quick stood he.
He pulled off five rings of gold
And gave them to the clerks to hold.
“Dig a tomb right large and deep:
There must we walk while men do sleep.”
Malmston waxed both pale and red,
With a deep wound he fell down dead.
