Narrative Poems
Page 10
And was gone in a glance; then gleaming white10
Of cloud-castles was unclosed, and the blue
Of bottomless heav’n, over the blowing waves
Blessed us returning. Half blind with her speed,
Foamy-throated, into the flash and salt
Of the seas rising our ship ran on
For ten days’ time. Then came a turn of luck.
On the tenth evening too soon the light
Over working seas went beneath the sky line,
Darkness came dripping and the deafening storm
Upon wild waters, wet days and long,20
Carried us, and caverned clouds immeasurable
Harried and hunted like a hare that ship
Too many days. Men were weary.
Then was a starless night when storm was worst,
The man of my mates whom most I loved
Cried ‘Lost!’ and then he leaped. Alive no more
Nor dead either the dear-loved face
Was seen. But soon, after his strange going,
Worse than the weathers, came the word shouted,
‘Breakers ahead of us’, and out of black darkness,30
Hell-white, appeared horrid torment
Of water at the walls of a wild country.
The cliffs were high, cluttered with splinters
Of basalt at the base, bare-toothed. We found
Sea-room too small; we must split for sure,
And I heeded not the helm. Their hearts broke there,
The men I loved. Mad-faced they ran
All ways at once, till the waves swallowed
Many a smart seaman. Myself, I leaped
And wondered as I went what-like was death,40
Before the cold clasped me. But there came a sea
Lifting from under me, so large a wave
That far above the foam of the first rock-shelves
It bore me, and far above the spray,
Upward, upward, into the air’s region,
Beyond the cliffs into a yawning dark.
Other echoes, earthlier sounding,
In closer space, shut out the clamourous waves.
Then backward drawn with a babble of stones,
Softly sounding, in its spent fury,50
A dull, dragging, withdrawing sigh,
That wave returned into the wastes, its home,
And would have sucked me back as I sank wearied,
But that there was grass growing where I gripped the land,
And roots all rough: so that I wrestled, clinging,
Against the water’s tug. The wave left me,
And I grovelled on the ground, greatly wearied.
How long I lay, lapped in my weariness,
Memory minds not. To me it seems
That for one full turn of the wheels above60
I slept. Certainly when the sleep left me
There was calm and cool. No crashing of the sea,
But darkness all about. Dim-shadowed leaves
In mildest air moved above me,
And, over all, earth-scented smell
Sweetly stealing about the sea-worn man,
And faintly, as afar, fresh-water sounds,
Runnings and ripplings upon rocky stairs
Where moss grows most. Amidst it came,
Unearthly sweet, out of the air it seemed,70
A voice singing to the vibrant string,
‘Forget the grief upon the great water,
Card and compass and the cruel rain.
Leave that labour; lilies in the green wood
Toil not, toil not. Trouble were to weave them
Coats that come to them without care or toil.
Seek not the seas again; safer is the green wood,
Lilies that live there have labour not at all,
Spin not, spin not. Spent in vain the trouble were
Beauty to bring them that better comes by kind.’80
Then I started up and stood, staring in the darkness,
After the closing strain. The clouds parted
Suddenly. The seemly, slow-gliding moon
Swam, as it were in shallows, of the silver cloud,
Out into the open, and with orb’d splendour
She gleamed upon the groves of a great forest.
There were trees taller than the topmost spire
Of some brave minster, a bishop’s seat;
There very roots so vast that in
Their mossy caves a man could hide90
Under their gnarl’d windings. And nearer hand
Ferns fathoms high. Flowers tall like trees,
Trees bright like flowers: trouble it is to me
To remember much of that mixed sweetness
The smell and the sight and the swaying plumes
Green and growing, all the gross riches,
Waste fecundity of a wanton earth,1
—Gentle is the genius of that juicy wood,—
Insatiable the soil. There stood, breast high,
In flowery foam, under the flame of moon,100
One not far off, nobly fashioned.
Her beauty burned in my blood, that, as a fool,
Falling before her at her feet I prayed,
Dreaming of druery, and with many a dear craving
Wooed the woman under the wild forest.
She laughed when I told my love-business,
Witch-hearted queen. ‘A worthy thing,
Traveller, truly, my troth to plight
With the sea villain that smells of tar
Horny-handed, and hairy-cheeked.’110
Then I rose wrathfully; would have ravished the witch
In her empty isle, under that orb’d splendour.
But she laughed louder, and a little way
She went back, beckoning with brows and eyes.
Like to2 lilies, when she loosed her robe
Under broad3 moonshine, her breasts appeared,
No maiden’s breasts, but with milk swelling,
Like Rhea unrobed, rich in offspring.
Her sign was not sent to the sea-wanderer:
Others answered. From the arch’d forest120
Beasts came baying: the bearded ape,
The lion, the lamb, the long-sided,
Padding panther, and the purring cat,
The snake sliding, and the stepping horse,
Busy beaver, and the bear jog-trot,
The scurrying rat, and the squirrel leaping
On the branch above. Those beasts came all.
She grudged no grace to those grim ones. I
Saw how she suckled at her sweet fountains
The tribes that go dumb. Teeth she feared not,130
Her nipple was not denied to the nosing worm.
I thought also that out of the thick foliage
I saw the branches bend towards her breast, thirsting,
Creepers climbing and the cups of flowers
Upward opening—all things that lived,
As for sap, sucking at her sweet fountains.
And as the wood milked her, witch-hearted queen,
I saw that she smiled, softly murmuring
As if she hushed a child. How long it was
These marvels stood, memory holds not,140
—All was gone in a glance. Under the green forest
We two were alone, as from trance wakened.
She was far fairer than at the first seeing.
Then she struck the string and sang clearly
Another lay. Earth stood silent.
‘You are too young in years. My yesterdays,
Left behind me, are a longer tale
Than your histories hold. Far hence she lies
Who would learn gladlier of your love-business.
Woven in wizardry, wearily she lingers,150
Stiller and stiller, with the stone in her heart,
Crying; so cruelly creeps the bitter change on her,
—Happy the head is that shall ha
rbour in that breast—
My dear daughter, that dieth away,
In the enchanter’s chain. Who chooses best
Will adventure his life and advance far on
Into the cruel country. If he comes again
Bringing that beautiful one, out of bonds redeemed,
He shall win for reward a winsome love.’
‘This quarrel and quest, Queen,’ I answered,160
‘I will undertake though I earn my death
At the wizard’s wiles. But of the way thither,
The councils, and the kind, of the crafty man,
Tell me truly.’ When she turned her face
Her teeth glittered. She tossed her head,
Nostrils widened, as a noble dame
In scorn, scoffing, at a shameful thing4—
‘Eastward in the island the old one stands
Working wonders in the woful shade
Of a grim garden that is growing there170
Newly planted. That was the navel once
Of a sweet country, stol’n now from me,
Where he would be called a king. But he is cold at heart
And he has wrought ruin in those rich pleasances,
He has felled forests, put to flight my beasts,
Chaining with enchantment many a changeful stream,
Putting into prison all that his power reaches;
Life is loathsome to 5 that lord; and joy,
Abomination; and the bed of love
Eggs him with envy—outcast himself,180
An old, ugly, ice-hearted wraith.
If I saw shaking the skin upon his throat,
Or the rheum dropping from his red eyelids,
Or his tongue mumbling in the toothless gums,
By loathing I should lose my life. Strong thief!
Once amid these waters, well was my country,
Living lonely in my land, a queen.
Truly, I cannot tell of a time before
I was ruling this realm. I am its right lady.
Ages after, that other came190
Out of the ocean in an hour of storm,
Humble and homeless. At my hearth, kneeling,
Sweetly he besought me to save his life,
And grant him ground where he might grow his bread.
All that he asked for, ill-starred I gave,
Pleased with pity, that I have paid dearly,
And easily won. But for each acre
That my bounty gave to the beggar, soon
He stole a second, till as a strong tyrant
He holds in his hand one half the land.200
My flute he has stolen. Flowers loved it well
And rose upright at the ripple of the note
Sound-drenched, as if they drank,6 after drought, sweet rain.
Grass was the greener for it, as at grey evening
After the sun’s setting of a summer day,
When dusk comes near, and the dropping, crushed
Stalks stand once more in the still twilight.
That reed of delight he ravished away,
Stole it stealthily. In a strange prison
It lies unloved; and of my life one half210
With the flute followed, and I am faded now,
Mute the music. But a mightier woe
Followed the first one; with his fine weavings,
Cobwebby, clinging, and his cruel, thin
Enchanter’s chains, he has charmed away
My only child out of my own country,
Into the grim garden, and will give her to drink
Heart-changing draughts.7 He that tastes of them
Shall stand, a stone, till the stars crumble.
Of that drug drink not, lest, in his danger caught,220
Moveless as marble thou remain. But take
This sword, seaman, and strike off his head.
Hasten, if haply, ere his hard threatenings
Or his lies’ labyrinth, lapped about her,
Have driven her to drink that draught, in time,
You may redeem my dear.’
Dawn was round me,
Cool and coloured, and there came a breeze
Brushing the grasses. Birds were chattering.
There was I only in the empty wood,230
The woman away. One time I thought
It was a dream’s burden; but, amid the dews sprinkled
At my feet, flashing, that fallow sword
Lay to my liking. Lingeringly I weighed it,
Bright and balanced. That was the best weapon
That ever I owned. I ate in that place
My full upon the fruits the forest bore.
Then, among still shadows, slow-paced I went
Always eastward into the arch’d forest.
It was at the fifth furlong, forth I issued240
From the dreaming wood into a down country.
All the island opened like a picture
Before my feet. Far-off the hills,
Long and limber, as it were lean greyhounds,
With level chines, lay beneath the sunrise.
Chalk made them pale. Never a church nor a rick
Nor smoke, nor the smell of a small homestead,
Rose upon the ridges. The rolling land
Climbed to the eastward—there was the clearest sky—
Heaving ever hillward, until high moorland250
Shut off my seeing. The sorcerer’s home,
My goal, was there as I guessed. Thither
I held my way and my heart lightened.
Over hedge, over ditch, over high, over low,
By waters and woods I went and ran,
And swung the sword as I swung my legs.
Laughing loudly, alone I walked,
Till many a mile was marched away.
Half-way in heav’n to his highest throne
The gold sun glittering had gained above,260
When I looked and lo!, in the long grasses
By a brook’s margin a bright thing lay,
Reflecting the flame of floating sun,
Drawing my glances. As in danger, aside
I swerved in my step: a serpent I thought
Basking its belly in the bright morning
Lay there below me. But when I looked again,
Lo it never moved. Nearer gazing,
I found it was a flute, fashioned delicately,
Purely golden. When I picked it up270
I could make with my mouth no music at all
And with my five fingers, failing always
Whatever tune I tried, testing that instrument.
Almost, in anger—for it irked me so—
I had flung the flute among the flowers and grass,
Let it lie there by the lapping stream.
Presently I put it in the pouch I bear
Set on my shoulder. It was my second thoughts.
Over hedge, over ditch, over high, over low,
By waters and woods I went and ran,280
And swung the sword as I swung my legs.
Laughing loudly, alone I walked,
Till many a mile was marched away.
Bright above me on the bridge of noon
Sun was standing, shadows dwindled,
Heat was hovering in a haze that danced
Upon rocks about my road. I raised my eyes.
On the green bosom of a8 grassy hill,
White, like wethers, in a wide circle,
Stones were standing; as on Salisbury Plain290
Where wild men made for the worshipt sun
That old altar. On thither I went
Marching right among them. Man-shaped they were,
Now that I was nearer and could know their kind,
—Awful images, as it were an earlier race,
Nearer neighbours of the noble gods,
They were so quiet and cold. Kingly faces
There hushed my heart from its hard knockings.
As I walked, wondering, in
their wide consistory,
Through and through them, for the throng was great,300
Fear stopped my breath. I found sitting
Lonely among the lifeless, but alive, a man,
His head hanging, and his hands were clasped,
His arms knotted, and from his eyes there came,
Sadly, without ceasing, slow tears and large.
Hunched and hairy was his whole body,
Durned and dwindled. Dwarflike he seemed,
But his ears bigger than any other man’s.
He was grubby as if he had grown from the ground, plantlike,
Big of belly, and with bandy legs.310
Shrublike his shape, shocked-headed too,
As if a great gooseberry could go upon legs,
Or a mangel be a man. Amazed, I spoke.
‘What little wight then, weeping among the stonemen,
Lives alone here? What is the load of care
That has dwelled in you, dwarf, and dwined you thus?’
Then the little man lifted up his eyebrows
And he spoke sadly. ‘Sorrow it is to me
To remember my mates. Men they were born
Who are now stone-silenced in this circle here,320
By wizard’s wand. Once they beat me,
Captain kicked me, and cook also,
Bosun boxed me on both my ears,
Cabin-boy, carpenter—all the crew of the Well Away—
Before they fell—she foundered here—
Into the wizard’s hand. He worked them into stone,
That they move no more, on the main or on the shore.
Able seaman of old were they all,
Ranting and roaring when the rum was in
Like true British sailors. Trouble it is to me330
To remember my mates—the men that they were!
I shall not meet their match. When the mate was drunk
It took all ten of their toughest men
In a strange seaport to shut him up.
Now they are stones, standing. He stopped their life,
Made them into marble, and of more beauty,
Fairer faces, and their form nobler,
Proud and princely. But the price was death.
They have bought beauty. That broke my heart.’
‘I am an enemy to that old sorcerer,340
Dwarf,’ I answered. ‘Dwelling in the greenwood
Where the waves westward wash the sea-cliff,
I found, fairest of all flesh, the Queen
Who should rule this realm, for she is its right lady.
I am sent on her side. I shall save the land
From the enchanter’s chain; so my charge bids me.
Lead me loyally where that lord dwelleth
In his ill garden, ice-hearted man.’
The dwarf answered ‘She who dwells in the wood
Is the second fear in this strange country.350
She has a wand also, that woman there;