Complete works of willia.., p.543
Complete Works of William Morris, page 543
And Launcelot saying “ Now beyond all doubt
Is Palomydes the best knight living
Though Lamorak and Tristram are most stout.”
Abroad from thence the bruit shall go of me,
And many a lord shall say,” Hold we high feast;
Tomorrow an uncouth sight shall we see:
Here cometh Palomydes and his beast.”
And so to Cornwall shall I come at last —
But saying this he sighed, for well he thought:
When all this noble fame has been compassed
Shall Iseult’s love be nearer to me brought?
Now at that time the forest thinner grew
On the left hand, and all between the trees
The light of the green fields began to show,
And ever fresher blew the western breeze,
On either side of him the thrushes sang
And as he drew his rein it seemed to him
That from some far-offtower the bells rang.
So he passed on to that great forest’s rim
And then beneath him by the meadows fair
With their broad acres of the good green wheat
Starred with the blood-red poppies burning clear,
There sat he, and the smell of hay came sweet
Upon the wind and therewithal the chimes
Uncertain as the kisses of a maid
Sang out their tale in sweet outlandish rymes
Hard to remember. Therefore down he laid
His bridle, and he cried, How fair, how fair,
You walk within the summer gardens
O bright Iseult! — having but little care
For Palomydes, as 1 full well know.
WE HAVE DONE ALL THAT MEN COULD DO
What can our curses now avail,
We lying here unarmed and bound,
If prayers were nought to turn the scale
When swords were whole and mail was sound?
Ye shall grow great: your old defeat
Shall be but part of your renown —
O brave, so many a loss to meet
And still to rise when smitten down!
Our battles and our lives are past.
We have done all that men could do
But lie here in the dust at last,
For ye were many, we were few,
Fear nothing then but strike the blow;
Be merry now from day to day —
Your enemies are lying low,
Fear not the Gods so far away.
BALLAD: THERE WERE TWO KNIGHTS RODE TOGETHER
THERE were two knights rode together,
At their backs a great meine
They were in the fair English land,
Muckle joy had they.
Fair Sir, I am old and my eyen are weak,
Your eyen are clear and keen,
I pray you name me well yon bird
Fled over the meadows green.
Whether was it a good storm-thrush
Or a jay with a blue wing,
Was it one of the birds that sing fair lauds
When the greves are green in spring?
Yon bird it was no missel-thrush
Or jay with a blue wing;
O let narrow and well away
To the song that it doth sing.
Yon was an evil maggot-pie,
He bodeth us treie and tene,
I would I had seen some other bird
Betwixt the greves green.
Though we have come safe home again
And our hap has been but good,
Cry not Ho, the old saw saith,
Till you are out of the wood.
They rode so long till the mirk night
Came over the country side;
They said one to another,
I would some house might betide.
O whatten a light is yon great light
That maketh the heaven red?
It is na the light of torches
For all men are fast abed.
O whatten alight is yon great light?
The sun was down six hours ago.
No doubt in some carle’s homestead
The red cock doth crow.
O whatten a light is yon great light ?
The moon was down an hour ago.
O yon is the bonny house of Skreehope
That burneth all in a red glow.
O whatten staves are yon great staves?
They seem right great agen the low.
O yon are the spears of the fause Scots:
Cry, Mary my help for Skreehope ho!
Gin we had no fear of the French glaives
Little fear have we of the Scotch spears.
I should never see such a deadly fray
Gin I should live an hundred years.
Many a Scot was overthrown
And laid dead on the earth cold,
But our Englishmen were put aback
Though of their hearts they were full bold.
There was the lord of Skreehope slain,
And Sir John of Fulton was led away.
Skreehope House has been full cold,
None dwells there syne that day.
SAINT GEORGE
SUCH careless thoughts as maids will have, she had
In other days, when passing on that way
Toward the small chapel: there with heart right glad,
Becausejoy filled her, would she often pray.
Indeed I know in those days there was nought
That Sabra needed: so for utter love
She prayed: nor broke thereby one happy thought
That pleased her heart, pure as a grey-winged dove.
But now she thought it hard to think of God;
Although her lips kept muttering as she went,
“God help! Christ help!” Her footsteps as she went
Seemed heavy to her, and her head was bent
Down to the road. That morning she would walk,
Although they brought a litter hung with gold
And soft with cushions; when she heard them talk
Low-voiced why these were black—” nay on the mo uld
I walk a ghost,” she said, “on this last day.”
Although of old for very daintiness
She loved soft cushions and fine food, this may
Went golden-shod afoot in her distress.
Her head down to the ground a little drooped,
Her loose hair combed out thin on either side,
Beneath a scarlet mantle furred she stooped,
A thin white kirtle clad her like a bride.
There were no women with her; but tall men
This side and that plodded with heavy tread:
Armed close and clean with steel they were, as when
In bitter fight the guisarme skins the head.
WHY DO THEY MAKE THESE LISTS IN THE GREAT SQUARE?
Why do they make these lists in the great square
This July night and spend much velvet fair
Upon the canopies and good cloth of Rheims?
How is it the pealing of the chimes
Are little heard amid the din and sway
Of many people eager as in day ...
A TIME THERE WAS IN DAYS LONG PAST AWAY
A time there was in days long past away
Whereof the romance telleth when all laws
Were kept far better than they are today
That time no man escaped without due cause
That time as Gods knowing both good and ill
With unsealed eyes upon the judgement seat
Sat dukes and kings and wrought out all their will
And those were glad who sat beneath their feet
Yet verily as all the wise men say
Man may know much the high God knoweth all
Yea such a man a man sic was righteous yesterday
Today he sinneth let? the sword fall
So say they not being merciful like God
Who lets him live the next day and do well
So comes it many bones beneath the sod
Lie buried quietly whom the hangman fell
Had dealt with but that God the pitiful
At some bad times when they were full of fear
And all seemed failing made their judges dull ?
Lo such a tale as this is written here
A knight there was and he was young enow
But battered in the wars of many lands
And likewise in estate was fallen so low
Nothing he had but what his sword and hands
Might win from year to year nevertheless
The maid at court of noble house and state
Gave him her love and in all recklessness
A desperate man he quite forgot his fate
And cherished it and warmed himself thereat
To mind today tomorrow God may mind
Look you it was high treat for one who sat
Not so high up above the salt to find
The silkwound vellum fall before his feet
While red as fire yet with what Count Guy
Had just now said or while his heart y beat
With smothered rage at Earl John’s stations ? high.
I say no wonder if he scarce could see
For giddy pleasure what fair words were writ
Upon the vellum flower and bird and tree
Danced in the merry sun because of it
I say no wonder if he found it sweet
After some foil in field or tournament
Kissing together to sit feet to feet
And ever round him her two long arms went
And ever surely twas a great content
Shortly no wonder and not too much blame
If he forgot how hard the times were then
If he forgot the wretchedness and shame
His love would surely win among all men
Yea he forgot that law so pitiless
Whereby as saith the romance what Lady
Of that court fell in sinful love no less
Than burnt she was without more remedy
And though no doubt a many times he thought
All this and more yet nonetheless because
While love and honour so hard in him fought
By no process of thinking might he pause
To leave the brawl and jungle of the hall
For quiet hours in the distant place
She and her ladies dwelt in and hear fall
The conduit in its basin: face to face
Meanwhile they sat and sang and stories old
Made them but mindful of their own delight
Forgetful of their troubles and so bold
And tender did his face seem in her sight
That all seemed won already and such love
From her compassionate eyes shone down on him
Twixt falling of the blossoms from above
That thought and memory both began to swim
In giddy dream and if he could have thought
Better is love than honour he had said
For unto another world love had them brought
And there they made their own laws by my head
Upon a day there came a time at last
When both to him and her was no return
Hands off with honour love had got him fast
For weal and woe in this flame him doth ? burn
Alas she with him
Take notice though that being as they
Fair of good estate, right many men
Loved her in one way or another way
And often was she hard put to it when
They sought her love upon the bended knee
By due answer to hold her secret fast
In spite of all out would it certainly
Swathe a Snake up in wool, at last
Out comes the head with the black forked tongue
Quivering before it all was but in vain
And openly the bitter secret thing
In spite of all the watchfulness and pain
There was Sir Aloyse in that court a Knight
Of name and wealth a man of cruel heart
Cold you had said, who nonetheless took light
And burnt with love towards her for his part
But no wise might he win her cold and proud
She was to most, although for bitter care
She trembled at such praises loud
The more through heavy thoughts her beauty ? where
Stood Sir Aloyse with roses in his hand
And fierce love at his heart: Kiss them he said
And give them back to me. Spring was on the land
And the may blossoms rained upon her head
The warm wind blew the medlar leaves apart
And shook the starred white flowers she looked round
At him first then about for help her heart
Almost stopped beating at the grating sound
And dainty seemed right dangerous and hard
And he who held him wise loved not with her
And evilly her would beloveds fared
Of those few words because indeed they meant
More than they said, his eager eye
His flushed face smiling proud and confident
Nought in the way now meant they certainly.
She stood a moment quivering with great fear
Then turned to run he caught her by the hand
With a great spring then said nay stop and hear
A story that I know sit while I stand
She sat upon the grass and over her
Feeling his cutlace edge stood Sir Aloyse
The sound of his slow speaking reached her ear
Dreadful and dreamlike as the constant noise
Of falling waters. So, he said time goes.
I knew you as a merry child one tide
And that is past great love for you arose
Within my heart since then set that aside
I thought I had a chance once let that go
But think Margaret how in the many fights
We men of war have been in that we know
Things women do not think of and see sights
Whereof they do not dream I saw one day
Upon a battle field a young knight dead
There with clenched hands throat cut wide he lay
And it was I who killed him by my head
Who was it but my brother times change much
Who would have thought that he of all other men
Should thwart and thwart me till I changed too such
Close friends we were once yet I killed him then
I was not sorry I had killed him though
But sorry we had quarrelled all alas
But as go other things so goes sorrow
I grieve. Alas you will not love me now time was
I would have served you well; but for Richard
I hold it pity that you should give up
Your life for him. To die so young is hard
But who so casts aside a golden cup
Let him go drink grey waters from the brook
And foul his hosen with the mud thereof
I must away I fear much I must look
To hear strange tidings while my broken love
Makes me sit brooding in my hall alone
I judge that it might happen any day
Those dreadful laws may be fulfilled to the bone
And marrow I am sorry I must say
You seem to hate me why do you look so pale
I fear it is not that you pity me
Your own grief doubtless roused up by this tale
This string of words that minglingly ?
I have been pouring out is it farewell
Will you live Margaret years and years and years
To help you help
With love and honor — now ? you have a bell
With Richards arms upon it yes Cicel
I think her name is your own pretty maid
Gave it to me — ah not discreet enow Tis pretty
Cicely picked it up she said
In your own bower is it farewell now
Do you reach your hand to say good bye
No let me keep the bell and give me leave
To say be careful of the sweet Cicely
For keeping secrets she is like a sief
For holding water — well I must away
Alls ended ? the end is just begun
Margaret farewell. She was as pale as clay
While he was speaking as when he was done.
And gone away she sat and held her knees
And for awhile in rocking to and fro
Now vaguely thought she of departed peace
And now half pondered what thing she might do
To save her body and her love from death
Whether he lied or not Sir Richard’s bell
That went for nothing Cicely though her breath
Went when she thought of what she knew full well ?
Hard was it to die young and hard to face
The bitter world with lies and lies and lies
And then she thought how well she knew the place
Where she was to be burnt with what surprise
Her kindred over sea would hear of it
And would they arm for vengeance or just take
Some pounds of gold and after that would sit
In some gilt chantrey silent for her sake
Wishing the mass well over giddily
She rose at last and in her bower she lay
Wishing that that spring day were all gone by
