Narrative Lyric 
 
 Edward Lucas Whit 
 
Book.H5i8_H3 
 Copyright )^«J3-IIS__ 
 
 COPyRIGHT DEPOSre 
 
NarrativG Lyrics 
 
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 Edward Lucas \y\\\\t 
 
 G. p. PUTNAH'S SONS 
 
 New York and London 
 
 Zbe ftnicfierboclier press 
 
 1908 
 
SEP 12 1^08 
 
 CLASS 
 
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 Copyright, iqo8 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWARD LUCAS WHITE 
 
 35^5 
 
 Ube ftnfciierbocfier pre00« flew l^orli 
 
V >n 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 HIM WHO APPROVED 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Lucifer .... 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Rhampsinitos 
 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 Talith .... 
 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 Eglon and Ehud 
 
 
 
 
 26 
 
 Shamgar 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 The Levite. 
 
 
 
 
 46 
 
 Benaiah 
 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 Deioces 
 
 
 
 
 52 
 
 The Titan . 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 The Last Bowstrings 
 
 
 
 
 . 63 
 
 Kranae 
 
 
 
 
 . 68 
 
 The Retribution 
 
 
 
 
 . 78 
 
 Vertumna . 
 
 
 
 
 86 
 
 The Measure of the Sword 
 
 
 
 . 95 
 
 Done For . 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 • 113 
 
vi Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Marcabrun . . . . . .120 
 
 Certainty ....... 124 
 
 The Emperor ...... 126 
 
 The Ghoula ...... 129 
 
Acknowledgments are due Messrs. Hoqghton, Mifflin and 
 Company for permission to reprint "The Last Bowstrings" and 
 "Benaiah," which were published in the Atlantic Monthly for May, 
 1891 and April, 1892. 
 
NARRATIVE LYRICS 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 THERE is a tale that, when, around the throne 
 Of Allah in vast circles blazed and shone 
 The shields of rebel angels, Almahar, 
 The friend of Lucifer, had flown afar 
 Upon a mission to some shadowy clime 
 Beyond the reach of the resounding chime 
 Of the strong chorus of the choiring spheres; 
 Where not one spirit in the silence hears 
 Even the whirr of the lone star that swings 
 On the dim border of their circling rings; 
 Where all things are not found to know or tell 
 Like anything in earth or heaven or hell. 
 
 While he upon his errand passed the bound 
 
 Of the pale confines where all light and sound 
 
 Fade into that which is not day nor night, 
 
 Where is no ghost of darkness or of light. 
 
 His friend, on fire with immortal pride, 
 
 Because the ether where his pinions plied 
 
 Was the same ether which all angels breathed; 
 
 Because the light wherewith his brows were wreathed 
 
2 Lvicifer 
 
 As each archangel's halo of them all 
 
 Shone, and not brighter; since the rise and fall 
 
 Of his strong purple wings diffused and shed 
 
 Such perfume as all angel plumage fed, 
 
 No other and no sweeter; since the tones 
 
 Of his gold voice, such as each angel owns, 
 
 Not stronger and not clearer, like a sword 
 
 Clove heaven through with praises of the Lord; 
 
 Because he was not any other thing 
 
 Than what he was, rose up against the King, 
 
 Hating the very heaven that he trod 
 
 Because he was an angel and not God. 
 
 After the lightnings of the Lord had burned 
 
 Their pride, and all their strength to fear was turned, 
 
 Above their heads, now haloless and bowed. 
 
 The sentence hurtled, harsh as fire and loud: 
 
 Into the kingdom of the nether world. 
 
 Where Eblis rules, the rebels should be hurled, 
 
 Cast out of heaven forever, now no more 
 
 Angels, but demons among demons, soar 
 
 They might not in the day, but in the dark 
 
 In vain should strive, in vain should gaze and hark 
 
 Unto the silence, and each one alone 
 
 With his own memories might laugh or moan, 
 
 But never sing and never smile again. 
 
 And ever seek new memories in vain. 
 
 For no new thought might ease or change the smart 
 
 Where the old thoughts ate into each one's heart. 
 
 When Almahar, his errand ended, came 
 
 From Allah's presence, clothed with velvet flame 
 
LrXicifer 3 
 
 His flight had kindled, missing Lucifer 
 
 And all at once aware of a vague stir 
 
 Deep in averted eyes, he asked at length. 
 
 And Raphael, shuddering through all his strength. 
 
 Answering his longing for his absent friend. 
 
 Told him all things whatever to the end. 
 
 The angel, with bowed face and loosened hair, 
 
 Fled out of heaven, wandering anywhere 
 
 Among the wildernesses of the stars 
 
 Beyond the radiance of heaven's bars, 
 
 Bewailing his lost friend. Between his hands 
 
 The hot tears fell, like pearls or golden sands, 
 
 And from his head his pale straight tresses streamed, 
 
 And to a thousand worlds their shining seemed 
 
 A portent of some woe unspeakable 
 
 Lit from fires of a colder hell. 
 
 And when he took his place among the choir 
 
 Again, his face was changed as though by fire, 
 
 And paler than is any restless ghost 
 
 He sang, the saddest of the heavenly host. 
 
 After a thousand ages, Almahar 
 
 Passed through a region where there is one star 
 
 Whose baleful light makes deaf the eyes and stuns. 
 
 And a vast meadow, all aflower with suns, 
 
 Is under it where it hangs in the dark. 
 
 And there he paused and seemed to muse and 
 
 hark. 
 Pondering the loveliness beneath his feet. 
 And when he raised his eyes, it was to greet 
 The gaze of his lost friend who sat enthroned 
 Upon the dark star where it swung and groaned. 
 
4 Lvicifer 
 
 The silence boomed and thundered in their ears, 
 
 And, their eyes brimming with eternal tears. 
 
 Each felt his life flow backward at full tide, 
 
 And speechlessness seemed with them to abide. 
 
 Almahar broke the stillness, and his speech 
 
 Was a hoarse whisper as though, out of reach, 
 
 Beyond some gray horizon, moaned and roared 
 
 The billows of an ocean grim, unshored, 
 
 Salt with the bitternesses of the tears 
 
 Of myriad nations shed through countless years. 
 
 And the strained voice, charged with a multitude 
 
 Of sympathies and yearnings unsubdued. 
 
 Spoke much, and the words little, and he said, 
 
 "You suffer, Lucifer." The other's head 
 
 Quivered erect on his tense neck, his eyes 
 
 Blazed with uncounted molten memories, 
 
 His answer was a chill and bristling hiss 
 
 Filling the hard unlovable abyss 
 
 With writhing sighs: "Would I could make you feel 
 
 The agonies, more sharp than fire or steel, 
 
 That eat my heart out," Lucifer replied. 
 
 "And yet there is no other one beside 
 
 So fierce and fell as this, I cannot gain 
 
 The power to make you share my rage and pain. 
 
 No effort or device my thought conjures 
 
 Can give my soul the power to hurt yours 
 
 As I would hurt you had I but the power 
 
 To fuse eternity into one hour. 
 
 To mix in it the misery that dwells 
 
 In all the caverns of the farthest hells 
 
 And set this wave of deathless fire to roll 
 
 Forth in a torrent and engulf your soul 
 
Lucifer 
 
 And smother it forever!" When amaze 
 
 And questionings lit up the other's gaze, 
 
 He burst out once again: "Can you not see 
 
 What tortures, and has always tortured me? 
 
 The universe cries out with one accord, 
 
 'He fell because his heart could brook no lord.' 
 
 And what would it avail to me that I 
 
 Should face them all and give their throats the lie? 
 
 It may be true — all beings know this smart — 
 
 Not even Satan can read Satan's heart. 
 
 To you I swear I did and could obey 
 
 As all the angels, easily as they. 
 
 But heaven was unto me a vaster hell — 
 
 To know forever, and to know too well. 
 
 That all the hierarchies of the blest 
 
 Looked up to me as purest, noblest, best. 
 
 As perfect in all thoughts and in each deed, 
 
 Sterling at heart and certain to succeed. 
 
 While I could see, along with no surprise, 
 
 My valuation writ in Allah's eyes. 
 
 You I had loved, you loved me well of old, 
 
 But how could any love or friendship hold, 
 
 When I beheld grow and increase in you, 
 
 Who knew my life and mind and heart all through. 
 
 The like perception of my real unworth ? 
 
 I saw it, and that was my hatred's birth. 
 
 Torture enough it was to me that I 
 
 Saw every angel halt to let me by. 
 
 And knew myself unworthy all the while ; 
 
 Worse, what I saw well hid in Allah's smile, 
 
 And worst that you, my confidant and friend. 
 
 Should know me as I was, and still pretend 
 
6 Lxjcifer 
 
 To have for me your old unreined esteem; 
 
 Could read me and be willing yet to seem 
 
 Full of your old bright gladness in my sight; 
 
 Appear to give me what had been my right — 
 
 And was no more; conserve the fair outside 
 
 Which you had showed me trusted and untried, 
 
 And which you knew I never did deserve. 
 
 And well I knew no speech of mine would serve, 
 
 If I had spoken. Still your loyalty 
 
 Would say that you had seen no change in me, 
 
 That you loved me as truly as of old, 
 
 And knew my tinselled dross for very gold, 
 
 I knew your fancies you almost believed, 
 
 And by your hopes of me were half deceived. 
 
 And to my pride this was the keenest smart, 
 
 That sympathy for me was in your heart, 
 
 A longing that I might be as I seemed, 
 
 And the black insult that you ever dreamed 
 
 I might become so through your help and love; 
 
 This was my crowning wrong, all else above. 
 
 That you were able to admit at all 
 
 Compassion for my weakness and my fall. 
 
 Help — which I would not brook from the Most High — 
 
 From you! presuming on our friendship's tie! 
 
 Since Allah knew, why should he still forbear? 
 
 He felt compassion too! I was his care! 
 
 'T was then I turned my force of mind and limb 
 
 To make impossible for you or him 
 
 Aid or compassion. Truly I might be 
 
 Damned, but I still should stand self-poised and free, 
 
 No ward for help or satellite for gain, 
 
 But mine own sovereign, bearing mine own pain. 
 
Lvicifer 
 
 Him I have thwarted. Sympathy nor ruth 
 
 Can ever touch his chill and righteous truth. 
 
 But you are gentle still. Now do you know 
 
 Why hatred of you still in me must grow ? 
 
 Hate I can face, and feel my pulses thrill 
 
 With hate no hate can master or can kill, 
 
 But yet I feel one hate all hates above 
 
 At the unmanning knowledge of your love, 
 
 And twenty-fold I hate you that you dare 
 
 Still to insult with pity my despair." 
 
 He ceased, and hatred filled his eyes and ears 
 
 To realize the angel's gaze and tears. 
 
 And Almahar in gentleness replied: 
 
 "In very deed my love has never died, 
 
 And it will live forever as it ought, 
 
 The rnore because I find you, whom I thought 
 
 A demon among demons since your fall, 
 
 Are still a fallen angel, after all." 
 
RHAMPSINITOS. 
 
 [XCTO. 8c TavTa cXeyov tovtov tov /?a(riXea ^wov Kara^rjvaL 
 e's TOV ol 'EiXXrjve'i di'Sj^v vofii^ovcrt efvat, kukcWl avyKv/Scvciv 
 Trj Ayj/MTjTpi., Koi TO, fxXv VLKav avTY^v TO, Se icrcrovaOaL vir avTrj<;, 
 Kat fj.iv iraXiv avco airiKcadaL Bwpov c^ovTa Trap aJr^s ^ei- 
 pojuaKTpov ■)(pva'€ov 
 
 Herodotus, ii., 122. 
 
 I 
 
 AFTER dark the chariot was harnessed, 
 And the King came through a hidden postern, 
 Mounted in the boskage of his gardens, 
 And in silence through a distant gateway, 
 Void of ornament and giving egress 
 Into a walled lane, the car was driven. 
 Slowly through the city, choosing byways, 
 The four horses plodded ; when the houses 
 All were left behind, the lash laid on them 
 Hurled them like winged eagles toward the desert. 
 Through the low haze the uneasy moonlight 
 Fell obliquely on a speeding shadow 
 Tipped with silver manes, a soundless flurry 
 Of gilt hoofs, white spokes, and whirring tires 
 With a surf of brown-red sand about it 
 In cascades of dust, and all behind it 
 Were unrolled two narrow, inky furrows. 
 
RHampsinitos 
 
 As the shadow skimmed the sun-baked surface 
 Toward the caverned rock-hill-range of Ammon. 
 There one shape with crowned and crested helmet 
 Vanished in a cleft of rock. Outside it 
 Three remained, one helmeted and crested, 
 Two bareheaded, by the steaming horses. 
 
 II 
 
 And when the grooms had loosed the sweating team 
 
 And picketed them safely by the rocks, 
 
 In the deep shadow, and had given each 
 
 An armful of the fodder they had brought; 
 
 And, when they cooled, had poured for each a drink 
 
 Of water from the goat-skin water-bag 
 
 Into the leathern bucket; while the beasts 
 
 Crunched on contentedly, they greased the hubs. 
 
 So they would run for certain without creaking; 
 
 They wiped the harness dry and hung it up 
 
 Along the railing of the tilted car. 
 
 And then the grooms stood, drank again and puffed. 
 
 And mopped their faces well, and drank once more. 
 
 And the tall officer of the King's guards. 
 
 He who had driven, took his helmet off 
 
 And wiped his lordly forehead, staring out 
 
 Over the desert at the sinking moon. 
 
 And then the three sat down upon their cloaks 
 
 And leaned against the rocks and drank more wine. 
 
 And the grooms wondered if that off-wheel spoke 
 
 Was sprung as badly as it looked to be; 
 
 Discussed the left-hand trace-horse's sore mouth ; 
 
 Wished he had a new cover on his bit. 
 
lo RHampsinitos 
 
 And said the old skin-cover was too hard — 
 
 It chafed his mouth, they 'd told the head-groom so. 
 
 And as the other was not mellowed yet 
 
 With drinking, but had grown more dignified, 
 
 As the first three drinks usually made him, 
 
 He only listened to them, broad awake. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Rhampsinitos, through the silent cavern, 
 
 Followed fast a guide whose treads were noiseless, 
 
 And whose eyes gave out the only torch-rays 
 
 That lit up the monarch's ringing footsteps. 
 
 And the guide went first. His face was hidden 
 
 From the mortal following behind him. 
 
 Yet if he had seen it every moment 
 
 He would not have dreaded the eye-sockets, 
 
 Empty and aflame and phosphorescent. 
 
 For his courage was a kingly courage. 
 
 And the pathway, sharply sloping downwards, 
 
 Led him finally unto a portal 
 
 Carved with carvings beautiful and sombre. 
 
 And his guide there turned aside and vanished. 
 
 After a brief space of utter darkness. 
 
 The doors opened with a hingeless silence. 
 
 Rhampsinitos entered a thick-columned 
 
 Lintelled hall, so vast the roof was hidden, 
 
 Not by darkness, but by very distance. 
 
 For, although the myriads of braziers, 
 
 Shed a light lead-colored, slow, and heavy, 
 
 Nothing in the place was clothed in shadow. 
 
 The King strode between the throngs of pillars ; 
 
RHampsinitos ii 
 
 Paced the hall's length on the middle pavement; 
 
 Paused at the first step before the throne-place; 
 
 Stood and gazed upon the Queen who sat there; 
 
 Saw her eyes, the eyes of great Demeter, 
 
 The still eyes of the pale Queen of Hades, 
 
 She who rules all men's hearts forever 
 
 After they are dead and have forgotten 
 
 All the queens of love and earthly hours, 
 
 And remember her alone and love her, 
 
 With a dead love that is most undying, 
 
 As all lovers, fevered and exhausted, 
 
 Love the death which makes them calm for always. 
 
 And the King, who was a living lover. 
 
 Knew that he would love her dead, and trembled. 
 
 And he trembled while her eyes were on him. 
 
 Then the Queen's great voice said: " Rhampsinitos, 
 
 Since you are a mortal, not my lover. 
 
 Since you come alive to gaze upon me 
 
 Whom you will know in the long hereafter, 
 
 Now, my guest, be seated here and tell me 
 
 All the hope and yearning that is in you." 
 
 And when he had told her all, she answered: 
 
 " Dare you risk so much upon the chances? 
 
 Dare you hope to win so much upon them? 
 
 Be it even so, if so you wish it. 
 
 You may go hence with the wealth of Hades 
 
 And have won a life on earth forever; 
 
 You may go hence even as you came here ; 
 
 And you may depart a king no longer 
 
 And a mortal with no life hereafter. 
 
 That which is to be the dice will tell you." 
 
 And they sat among the burning braziers. 
 
12 RKampsinitos 
 
 In the vastness of the jewelled palace, 
 With the leaden light upon their faces, 
 Watched each other, threw the dice, and wagered. 
 
 IV 
 
 Pelteh, the groom, declared it was a shame 
 
 The way the stable contracts fell that year. 
 
 His cousin was a better harness-maker 
 
 Than any in the capital, and yet, 
 
 Although he had bid low, he did not get 
 
 One single contract ; and the men who did 
 
 Skimped their work shamelessly, and got full pay, 
 
 All the awards were by rank favoritism. 
 
 And the inspection was a perfect farce. 
 
 So that the harness, although it was handsome. 
 
 Wore out in no time, and its cleaning gave 
 
 No end of trouble ; why, the very yoke 
 
 They 'd used that night was absolutely botched, 
 
 And it was stuffed with some cheap, worthless paddinj 
 
 Unfit for any decent noble's stable. 
 
 Much less the King's. The hostler said 't was true ; 
 
 And, in the purchasing of feed, the like 
 
 Was usual. The barley had been bought, 
 
 By the connivance of the overseer. 
 
 Of a rich cousin of the butcher's wife — 
 
 Who was the overseer's friend, perhaps 
 
 More than his friend. It was up to the samples; 
 
 Yes, it was perfect barley, but the price 
 
 Was most outrageous. As for the promotions. 
 
 Not only in the stable-force, but also 
 
 In all the household of the worthy King 
 
RKampsinitos 13 
 
 Not one was for real merit. Wire-pulling 
 
 And bribery and favor did it all. 
 
 And here the other two chimed in, all three 
 
 Talking at once of the quite grievous way 
 
 Their talents had not gotten recognition, 
 
 "Although, of course," the officer went on, 
 
 "If the King knew, 't would all be managed right. 
 
 No sort of blame attaches to the King, 
 
 It would be treason even to hint that: 
 
 It is his underlings that do him wrong 
 
 And go against his orders:" and the others 
 
 Gave an assent emphatic as 't was quick. 
 
 V 
 
 Silent was the Queen, the monarch silent, 
 And monotonously from the dice-box 
 Fell the dice, monotonously clicking, 
 Till, unto the ears of Rhampsinitos 
 It appeared as if the columns echoed 
 Every click, however faint it sounded. 
 And the flowing of his blood environed 
 All his senses with a steady booming 
 Like the flow of subterranean water. 
 He had wagered all his mighty jewels. 
 And the Queen the half of Hades' treasure, 
 And the King had won. Upon the next throw 
 He had won the whole of Hades' treasure. 
 He had lost it, lost his own, his cattle. 
 Lost his armies, lost his fleet, his kingdom, 
 Wagered his own soul, won back his kingdom, 
 Won his fleet, won back again his losses, 
 
14 RKampsimtos 
 
 Won all Hades' treasure, staked it wholly 
 
 On one throw against a life forever 
 
 For himself on earth, a man and living. 
 
 He had won it, and the Queen's great eyelids 
 
 Gently brushed her pale cheeks with their lashes, 
 
 For he did not sigh nor laugh nor triumph. 
 
 " Is it all, and is it not sufficient? 
 
 Is there anything beyond you wish for 
 
 Rhampsinitos? Will you risk a wager 
 
 Still, for anything, who have won thus much? 
 
 If you wish to, speak, the time is passing." 
 
 And the King, his cheeks aflush with triumph, 
 
 Gripped the dice-box with his mighty fmgers, 
 
 And his breath came hard, and he was silent. 
 
 But her eyes still questioned, and he answered: 
 
 "Yea, O Queen, and could I live forever. 
 
 And alone, and loveless, and without her? 
 
 Could I take delight in any living 
 
 Even now, if I were always certain 
 
 I must live on earth, when she had left it? 
 
 But we two, we two, a life eternal 
 
 Were but short for us in earth or heaven!" 
 
 And the great Queen, laughing low, made answer: 
 
 " Shall it not be so with men forever? 
 
 You have planned and watched and fought and 
 
 labored, 
 You have hungered, suffered thirst and sickness, 
 Mired thick your chariot- wheels with carnage : 
 And, when you behold how great the task is 
 That your soul is bent on, when the knowledge 
 That a man's life is too short for triumph 
 Even in a safe and ordered kingdom, — 
 
RKampsinitos 15 
 
 Much too brief for stable foreign conquest — 
 
 When this knowledge makes you well-nigh hopeless; 
 
 And when, after you have won a lifetime 
 
 Long as all the length of all the ages, 
 
 Wherein you may fight, and scheme, and labor 
 
 To make all the earth a larger Egypt, 
 
 When your immortality is certain 
 
 And you have a wealth no man can equal, 
 
 All these prizes seem but baby baubles 
 
 If you lack the smiling of one woman! 
 
 Wager then, my stake is what you wish for." 
 
 And the monarch staked his life eternal, 
 
 Staked the life that he so much had longed for, 
 
 Staked the life that he had won so hardly, 
 
 And, his eyes aglow with hope and fervor, 
 
 His lips parted in anticipation. 
 
 Threw the dice, and leaned to hers to count them. 
 
 VI 
 
 It was past midnight now ; they all had slept 
 And waked again, and talked, and dozed yet more. 
 And then talked afterward. Pelteh went on: 
 "It is n't that I do find fault with life; 
 It seems, somehow, I can't express myself, 
 Perhaps I lack the education for it. 
 Maybe you know. Sir, what I want to say. 
 And could express it. I can't get it out." 
 The officer, much flattered, cleared his throat, 
 And said: "I think I know just what you mean. 
 I think you feel, as all of us must feel. 
 How much the world has fallen off in flavor 
 
1 6 RKampsinitos 
 
 Since the old times we like to hear about. 
 
 We have no men like our old fighting heroes. 
 
 War has become a trade. A modern soldier 
 
 Is very little better than a clerk 
 
 Engrossing documents in a law-office. 
 
 We fight, but all the soldiers are machines 
 
 Wholly controlled by their superiors. 
 
 There is no room for heroism there, 
 
 And if there is no heroism in war, 
 
 Where in the world will you find any at all? 
 
 All, great men and the rabble, poor and rich, 
 
 Feel something like this. In the good old days 
 
 Farming was an idyllic occupation, 
 
 Full of romance and poetry, but now 
 
 It is a trade like any other trade. 
 
 Egypt was once a land of gods and heroes; 
 
 Now we are just a herd of priests and nobles, 
 
 Warriors, tradesmen, laborers, and beggars, 
 
 Who, all alike, eat, sleep, and drink, and worship. 
 
 And die, like cattle, unheroic deaths. 
 
 The world is getting old and men degenerate; 
 
 The nobles some go down and upstarts some. 
 
 Out of the rabble, to fill up their places. 
 
 It was not so of old, then every man 
 
 Lived out his life in his own proper station, 
 
 And found variety and spice in life; 
 
 Now 'tis all changed." "I see," said Pelteh, sadly, 
 
 Checking a full-fed yawn, "I understand you. 
 
 In the old days I should have found a groomship 
 
 A life full of delight : now it seems sordid 
 
 And mean. And in the old days, too, you would 
 
 Have found a captaincy far more delightful 
 
RKampsinitos i? 
 
 Than a full generalship would seem to-day. 
 
 The fault is not in either of us, only 
 
 The times are to be blamed; they 're dull and tame." 
 
 " Exactly so," replied the officer. 
 
 And the lean hostler scratched his head and thought. 
 
 VII 
 
 Losing, winning, losing, and then winning, 
 
 Still the dice, that mocked him, never gave him 
 
 Mastery of an undying manhood. 
 
 And a deathless love to make it blessed. 
 
 And it seemed to him his lips and teeth were 
 
 Now no more apart, but grown together 
 
 Like the edges of a wound in healing. 
 
 As he diced, he wondered could he utter 
 
 Any speech again, or was the power, 
 
 Of all utterance gone from him for always. 
 
 The Queen's forehead, white above her eyebrows 
 
 In the leaden light, he kept his eyes on, 
 
 For he dared not meet her eyes directly. 
 
 Then the leaden lights appeared to waver. 
 
 To his fancy their flames seemed to rustle ; 
 
 The thick sweat was chilly on his temples ; 
 
 He threw many throws and won no longer. 
 
 Then he said: "I have no more to wager!" 
 
 And his own voice startled him with wonder. 
 
 And the great, calm Queen replied unto him: 
 
 "Is there no one on the earth who loves you 
 
 With a love so great your ears have heard her 
 
 Say her soul is yours alone, forever?" 
 
 " Yea!" the King replied, his pulses roaring. 
 
i8 RKampsinitos 
 
 "Wager, then, that soul," the Queen made answer, 
 
 " Since it is your own, and you may use it 
 
 As it pleases you, now and forever." 
 
 Slowly and with awe he said: "I cannot!" 
 
 " Then the earth will never more behold you 
 
 After one more sunset," said Demeter, 
 
 "And you have no life to live hereafter." 
 
 And the great King answered her, unsobbing 
 
 But his body nimib with fear and anguish, 
 
 "I will stake it." And she made her wager. 
 
 Thrice the King won, thrice again his losses 
 
 Brought him to that last unwilling wager. 
 
 Then his winnings followed fast each other 
 
 Till he had won back his losses wholly, 
 
 Won and lost again the wealth of Hades. 
 
 Then the Queen, the gold dice in her fingers, 
 
 Paused and listened, shook her head, and dropped them, 
 
 Saying: "You must cease. The time is over. 
 
 You must go back to your earth and kingdom. 
 
 Nothing have you lost and have won nothing. 
 
 Yet have tasted what no man has known of 
 
 Living, save yourself. Behold I give you. 
 
 For a token of your noble courage. 
 
 This gold napkin, marvellously woven. 
 
 Take it, and depart, and peace go with you." 
 
 VIII 
 
 Toward morn the men, who dared not keep asleep. 
 And were not able to keep broad awake, 
 Talked gossip between naps, and groomed the horses ; 
 Ate the remaining lunch that they had brought, 
 
RHampsinitos 19 
 
 And drank the last of their small stock of wine. 
 And after much conjecture of one scandal — 
 Which was the talk of all the court that month — 
 As they felt quite good friends by now, they came 
 To guessing their lord's nocturnal errand, 
 And who the lady was he came to meet, 
 And how she got there. And the officer 
 Observed: "As I remarked a short while back, 
 Our days are nothing if not commonplace. 
 The King of the most mighty of all nations, 
 With a good wife he ought to love, can fand. 
 In spite of all his state-craft and war-levies. 
 No better way to pass his time than this. 
 To meet some good man's worthless wife in secret. 
 Could there be anything more unromantic, 
 Matter-of-fact, and humdrum than all this? 
 And what must be the state of all the nation, 
 If the King, even, cannot be a hero 
 Not because he 's himself and not a hero, 
 But because modern times are unheroic. 
 He would not seem a hero if he were one." 
 
 IX 
 
 All the stars had vanished, save to westward 
 Where one hung above the purple desert. 
 Under it the haze was dun and reddish. 
 And the nearer sand was brown and even. 
 Southwardly the hills arose behind them. 
 And to the northward other hills, their fellows. 
 Loomed disruptedly, blue, gray, and rosy. 
 Eastward the horizon, steely-colored, 
 
20 RKampsinitos 
 
 Sundered the clear, hueless sky above it 
 From the yellow desert, waxing brighter. 
 The vast river, flowing in its hollow, 
 Was beyond the reach of any vision : 
 From beyond it still the daylight flooded 
 Into the clear air, with an increasing 
 Volume and an ever quickening outpour. 
 As the sun arose, the watchers turned them. 
 And, from out the dim, sand-paven cavern, 
 Rhampsinitos staggered, racked and shaken, 
 With blue lips and hollow cheeks and ashen. 
 Clutching in his hands a royal napkin 
 Wrought of cloth of gold, and strangely woven. 
 Though his eyes were terrorless and thoughtful 
 They beheld as a strange, novel vision 
 The cool brilliance of the morning sunlight. 
 
TALITH. 
 
 (Trochaic Trimeters.) 
 
 WHEN a king or queen or prince had died in Egypt, 
 Or when death had taken any royal being, 
 After hope was gone and Egypt's loss was certain 
 Then the servants of the dead enrobed the body 
 In the costliest and loveliest adornments; 
 Lavished on it all the stuffs that earth afforded 
 The most precious; all the gems of the regalia; 
 Placed it on a catafalque of sable velvet 
 Tufted over with amazing sombre jewels; 
 And it lay until the stroke of the next midnight, 
 'Mid the flickering of perfume-laden cressets, 
 In the chilly mourning-chapel of the palace. 
 Then the washers of the dead arrived to claim it, 
 And disrobed it of all decking and possessions, 
 And 't was washed and counted with unroyal corpses. 
 And, thereafter, cunning journeymen embalmed it 
 Till, inside its triple gilded cedarn coffins, 
 It was laid within the rock-tombs of the rulers. 
 
 In the chapel all the cressets were on fire. 
 But the mourners all save one had long departed. 
 For the Queen of Rhampsinitos, King of Egypt, 
 Lay there silent, and he watched hisdead and sorrowed. 
 
2 2 TalitH 
 
 He beheld the fretted crown, how it became her; 
 How her forehead was like wax against the metal ; 
 How the glossy single braid of raven tresses 
 Showed behind her tiny ear-shell, white and waxen; 
 How her throat was smothered in the heaps of jewels ; 
 How the silk and fine embroidered robe was lifted 
 By her breasts, like carven blocks or desert boulders; 
 How there was not any flowing in her outline, 
 But the form was suddenly a thing eternal 
 As the end of all her whims and veering fancies, 
 Which had always kept him glad with new perfections. 
 And he marked the fringe of silk and twisted bullion, 
 And the queenly little feet that showed below it ; 
 And it startled him to see them pink no longer, 
 But as gray as a cold sunset's final ashes. 
 In the growing night he paced the chilly chapel 
 And his thoughts were like an army in a sand-storm. 
 When there is not any man dare flee, nor any 
 Dare advance, or dare retreat or plan to face it. 
 He bethought him how the night was sweeping onward, 
 How the hours wherein he might do her honor 
 Were to pass, and she be one of Egypt's corpses, 
 And a number in their designating numbers, 
 But, till in her coffin — never to be opened. 
 Nor be added to nor altered nor amended — 
 She would be a reachless wish, a nameless absence 
 And he blamed himself that all his mighty treasures 
 Were not heaped upon the floor for her to rest on. 
 And he counted all the jewels there about her. 
 Lest some one had been omitted and forgotten. 
 But there was not one of all that he beheld not. 
 Then he thought how, in his privatest of treasures, 
 
TalitK 23 
 
 Lay the napkin he had won at dice in Hades 
 When he played there with the Queen of the departed, 
 And had risked and lost his soul, and had rewon it. 
 And he passed the hanging curtains of the portal ; 
 Passed the guards that stood as mute as tongueless 
 
 statues ; 
 Took the napkin from the casket in his vaulted 
 Crypt that no man save himself might ever enter ; 
 And repaced the corridors and moonlit porches 
 To the chapel, empty ever since he left it. 
 For he felt this was the dearest of his treasures 
 And most hardly won of all that he had gathered. 
 And he bore it to her that she might be honored 
 With all honor that the King could spend or lavish. 
 And he laid it on the catafalque beside her. 
 For he felt his heart was weakening within him. 
 And he thought: "I could not watch the washers 
 
 strip her 
 As the law is which the gods will have accomplished." 
 Therefore he resolved to spread the precious napkin 
 For a face-cloth on her face when last he kissed it, 
 And depart and meet his lonely life and joyless 
 Duty to his subject lands till death should take him. 
 And he marvelled at her slender girlish fingers 
 Loaded now with ancient rings of countless value; 
 And he knew not was this grief or was it stupor, 
 For he felt a dull and heavy self-efEacement. 
 Then the harsh horn at the gateway of the palace 
 Grated out a dry and rasping note of warning, 
 And he knew the washers of the dead were coming, 
 Though afar off in the miles of pillared palace. 
 Then he kissed his lost love's lips, and laid the napkin 
 
24 TalitK 
 
 On her face, and sobbed and rose with firm-set 
 
 shoulders, 
 For he knew his life was done except his duties. 
 
 But he had not gone a pace before he halted, 
 
 Cried a great cry to the tapestries and panels 
 
 Of the gilded and nail-studded level ceiling, 
 
 For he thought he heard her voice, and feared and 
 
 trembled. 
 Then he turned, and she was striving with her 
 
 wrappings. 
 And he gasped and wept and laughed and rent the 
 
 priceless 
 Webs of silk and chains of gold and massive jewels, 
 For he saw he was not mad, that she was living. 
 And her arms were round his neck, and to his kisses 
 She responded with the fervor of her girlhood. 
 And they clung together silently, and shivered. 
 Then she spoke, and in her throat her speaking 
 
 fluttered : 
 "O my King, my only love, my precious husband, 
 I was dead and stood before the gate of Hades, 
 And the guardians bade me enter in unburied, 
 And the Queen received me on her throne of silver, 
 And she told me dreadful Hades could not claim me 
 Till the hours had gone by, until the midnight. 
 For if Neith, who is the giver of all wisdom. 
 Should be pleased to move your heart to use the 
 
 napkin 
 Which the Queen of Hades gave you when you left 
 
 her, 
 Then I might return again into my body. 
 
TalitK 25 
 
 For it was for this she gave to you the token 
 Which is magical to wake the dead it touches, 
 Since she saw you loved me truly well and wholly, 
 And she wished that I might live until fate took us 
 Both together into night that has no morning." 
 And they shuddered and rejoiced and clung together 
 Till the Queen fell back again and gasped and fainted. 
 Rhampsinitos tore the close gigantic curtains 
 From the latticed southern window of the chapel, 
 And the night- wind and the moonlight flooded inward. 
 Then he broke the ropes of pearls and clasps of rubies 
 That, encumbering her throat, restrained her 
 
 breathing. 
 And he scattered far her armlets, rings, and girdle, 
 Loosing all the silken robes about her body 
 Till the desert wind upon her brow and bosom 
 Woke her, and she stirred and panted and recovered. 
 
 When the washers of the dead and guards behind them 
 Entered in, they saw the monarch who was kneeling. 
 And it seemed that he was raving, for the cerements 
 Of the corpse were rent and scattered and the jewels 
 Lay in gushes of bright hues upon the pavement, 
 And he held her body raised, his arms about it, 
 And the moonlight and the glare of leaping cressets 
 Fell upon them, red and white, and both together. 
 And the priests broke out in whispered prayers and 
 
 praises. 
 Of the gods, because they saw that she was living. 
 
EGLON AND EHUD. 
 
 (Judges iii., 12-20.) 
 
 BEFORE the raids and ravagings began, 
 Ehud came often to my father's house, 
 And there we played and prattled, boy and girl. 
 And I delighted in his frank, dark face. 
 And he was near me most of all the maids. 
 
 During the desultory fights and wars, 
 I saw him often armed among the rest, 
 And sometimes, going out or coming in. 
 We greeted briefly, or exchanged a word; 
 It seemed to me his eyes dwelt long on mine. 
 
 Then, when his home was threatened more than ours, 
 
 I saw him seldom ; later not at all. 
 
 He was not with us on the dreadful day 
 
 When Moab sacked our city in revenge 
 
 For what I know not, and I was enslaved. 
 
 After my capture, I was treated well 
 Not sold nor chaffered for, but set apart 
 Among the captain's spoils, and presently 
 Picked out from them with slim, deft-lingered girls 
 To serve as maidens round the lazy king. 
 
 26 
 
C^lon. and EK\ad 27 
 
 The war was without truce; no man survived 
 On either side from any fight or siege ; 
 Women and boys were kept if they were Hked, 
 But all grown men were butchered ruthlessly, 
 Our men as rebels, Moab's in retort. 
 
 As the time passed, I heard of victories; 
 Knew Israel was losing everywhere; 
 And how indeed could it be otherwise 
 After so long a servitude, since most 
 Felt the revolt was hopeless when begun? 
 
 Not that our warriors were too weak or few, 
 Or Moab's men too many or too skilled, 
 Numbers and spirits were on either side; 
 But our men needed some one glorious chief, 
 Keen-souled, quick-handed, famed for some great deed. 
 
 The Moabites were chieftained by a score, 
 
 All of whose thoughts were Eglon's: he, at home. 
 
 Guzzling iced drinks, pampered, bathed, fruit-fed, 
 
 fanned. 
 Heard all reports in silence, slept long sleeps. 
 And spoke his mind after a day's delay. 
 
 Then from the cool, jalousied portico 
 Where he passed days on his grass-stuffed divan 
 We women saw some one lean chief come forth, 
 His lips shut on the whispers he had heard, 
 With sparkles of su-ccess deep in his eyes. 
 
 And, after each long guarded interview 
 Of one alone with Eglon, back he came, 
 
2 8 Eglon and £Kvid 
 
 Dust on his gilded armor, without wound, 
 
 Leading an undiminished regiment, 
 
 And with them wagons bursting with their spoils. 
 
 So Israel and Moab knew full well 
 That were it brother, nephew, favorite, 
 Uncle, or son who led and struck the blow, 
 The brain was Eglon's and from him alone 
 Came Moab's strength and Israel's despair. 
 
 Our men had gathered downward from the hills, 
 And thronged the walled towns nearest the frontier. 
 Afraid to yield or to disperse toward home. 
 Lest they be utterly destroyed thereby. 
 And fearing bitterly to keep at war. 
 
 Rumors were bandied back and forth, of doubt. 
 Of yielding, of surrender: Eglon's eyes 
 Were lidded close, showing like narrow slits. 
 He had long conferences with his chiefs. 
 Young warriors and graybeards from the town. 
 
 I brought them drink or water for their hands, 
 Knocked ere I entered, walked to where they sat, 
 Saw all eyes watch me as I came and went, 
 But heard no utterance from any one. 
 And least the King: so all the other maids. 
 
 And yet some spoke of hearing what was said. 
 Falsely or truly, all reports alike. 
 The young men were for war, the old for war, 
 Eglon in doubt, saying the spoil was less 
 Than the old tribute; less and less worth while. 
 
Cglon and EKxid 29 
 
 Then came a story how men of each side 
 Stood by the huge carved granite images 
 That are near Gilgal, shouting from afar, 
 And so conferring, for each justly feared 
 To come to talking distance and converse. 
 
 Then we saw several captains with black brows, 
 Scowling and glum, saw elders stroking beards, 
 And after heard the terms called in the court, 
 We peering through the lattice in the dusk, 
 For they were cried at evening in the town. 
 
 Upon the morrow truce was to prevail ; 
 No Moabite should pass the images 
 Opposite Gilgal — there was set the bound ; 
 One party might advance from Israel 
 With presents, and beg mercy from the king. 
 
 And it was stipulated rigidly 
 That but one party might transgress the line, 
 And they but once ; oaths were to be exchanged 
 That they would come and go without deceit 
 As without peril, but not any more. 
 
 On the next morning we were all bedecked 
 In silks and jewels, sentries stalked about. 
 Splendid with costly trappings; majesty 
 And might were limned in every least detail 
 So that the embassy might dread and yield. 
 
 The envoys came on foot, severely clad, 
 
 Muffled in white, slow-paced beneath their loads. 
 
 With downcast eyes ; I looked at them with shame, 
 
30 C^lon and £K\id 
 
 Then gasped and reddened, whitening to the bone 
 To see my Ehud lead them thus abased. 
 
 The king received them in the pubHc hall, 
 Pillared and tiled, with lattices of stone, 
 Milk-white and fretted into pattern-work ; 
 And there they laid their packs aside and stood 
 Mute in a circle, Ehud in the midst. 
 
 The king was brief, spoke of the gifts with scorn. 
 
 Said he accepted them, they had no better. 
 
 If the old tribute be paid up in full 
 
 And from henceforward, peace should be declared. 
 
 Otherwise war, it was for them to choose. 
 
 Ehud replied; spoke soothingly. The terms. 
 He said, were hard, yet they accepted them ; 
 Asked ten days to disperse in, and disarm 
 The young irreconcilables ; from then 
 The gatherers of the tax might safely come. 
 
 Then Eglon's manner changed ; he called for slaves 
 
 To bear away the bales; called servitors 
 
 To wash his loyal subjects' dusty feet; 
 
 Then summoned us to lave their hands and bring 
 
 Cool drinks and fruits and honey-cakes for all. 
 
 Ehud was seated opposite the king. 
 
 It fell to me to hand to him the drink. 
 
 He had not recognized me in the throng. 
 
 And, when he saw me, his eyes flared with love 
 
 And pity, so my weak hand spilled the wine. 
 
E^lon and EKvid 31 
 
 The king just grunted; signed me to step near; 
 Cuffed at my middle with his pudgy hand, 
 And bade me, as I gasped between my tears. 
 Stand to one side among the untrained girls. 
 I leaned against a pillar, white for shame. 
 
 Ehud gave me one look ; arose to go 
 When the king signified it was his will. 
 They left the palace seeming satisfied, 
 And I, escaping from my comrades' jeers. 
 Watched from the roof toward Gilgal as they went. 
 
 I saw them pass the statues; saw that one 
 
 Tarried; then with the royal officers 
 
 I saw the man return, and knew from far 
 
 Ehud, and marvelled what might bring him back, 
 
 Hoping all things, yet fearing most for him. 
 
 I slipped down as he entered, saw him led 
 Into the cabinet which faced the north. 
 An upper room next the veranda there. 
 Thick-walled and doored, and lighted from above, 
 And saw all servants ordered thence away. 
 
 I listened next the guard-room, heard the talk. 
 He had declared that private enemies 
 Of his had led the outbreak; he would name 
 These to the king — his fellows must not guess. 
 They knew the king so wished and led him back. 
 
 Then I was seized with disregard of life. 
 Stole neai- the cabinet, found him so obeyed 
 
32 Eglon and EHxid 
 
 That no one had remained even on guard, 
 And then I found a key-hole and peeped in, 
 Saw Ehud sitting, heard what each one said. 
 
 Eglon was on his sofa, lolled at length. 
 
 Wine, fruits, and ice upon a tabouret 
 
 Stood close beside him. He was pleased and smiled; 
 
 Asked for the names again and licked his lips; 
 
 Then queried was there something more to tell. 
 
 Ehud arose. I saw his face and gasped: 
 "I have a message from the Lord our God," 
 He said, and caught his gullet with one hand, 
 Fumbling under his burnoose with his left, 
 Both straining, till the sofa-framing creaked. 
 
 Eglon's loose robe came off; his great gross thighs 
 Had hairless patches, and were splotched with red. 
 His belly was in folds to near his knees. 
 I heard the rattle in his breathless throat ; 
 Then saw the glitter of a sheathless blade. 
 
 Fat as he was his strength was wonderful. 
 Ehud held on and worked with skill and plan. 
 Not hurried nor excited, watched his chance, 
 And drove the dagger at his navel deep 
 So that it vanished inward, hilt and all. 
 
 Then he took both hands to the blueing throat; 
 Endured the buffets of the aimless hands; 
 Set his knee on the fluctuating chest. 
 And held till there was silence. Then he rose, 
 Arranged his dress, and came to where I was. 
 
E^lon and £lH\id 33 
 
 The broad veranda was so built and set 
 That no one from the courts or terraces 
 Could see into it, while it gave a view 
 Afar, across the mountains and the plain, 
 Even to Gilgal by the watercourse. 
 
 He set the door wide ; winced at sight of me ; 
 Then clasped me close, and questioned with his eyes: 
 "Safe, safe," I panted, "maid among his maids. 
 But you ? Your oath ! You are forsworn. Oh hurry ! 
 What have you done ! They are coming. Alas, alas ! ' ' 
 
 He chuckled silently: "They will not come," 
 He said, "till Eglon calls, and I misdoubt 
 But he will keep good silence till I win 
 Far beyond Gilgal. Listen now to me. 
 I must be brief, and I must tell you all. 
 
 " I thought you killed; heard of your body found; 
 Came here without ambition to submit; 
 Had in my heart no treachery; but, when 
 That cursed tallow-bladder struck at you, 
 The whole scheme flashed upon me in a breath. 
 
 " He would have granted peace now long ago 
 Save that our ringleaders he could not clutch. 
 And, in the hope of that, he kept at war, 
 Till, wearied by his lack of revenue. 
 He turned his mind to peace as you have seen. 
 
 "And, when you whimpered, this thought came to me. 
 With it my plan, how I could pass the bound; 
 Be set free of my oath. I had a sword 
 3 
 
34 E^lon and £K\id 
 
 Ready for treachery to sell my life 
 As dearly as might be ; I saw the deed. 
 
 "And so I did; the sight of what you bore 
 
 Gave to me craft, and gave me strength and sleight. 
 
 Now it remains to carry out the best 
 
 Of my device. I mean to rouse our men, 
 
 And sweep this horde of robbers to the grave. 
 
 " Slip out at nightfall; hide among the rocks 
 Between the three wild-olives, near the cliff ; 
 Wait there whatever happens. If I fall, 
 I shall set trusty eyes to seek foi you. 
 If I survive the assault, myself will come." 
 
 He left me; went inside the cabinet; 
 
 Barred all its doors; passed out on the other side; 
 
 And went his way to Gilgal. I could see 
 
 The speck I took for him pass the carved rocks. 
 
 And reach my people's camp, and still I watched. 
 
 I dared not slink away, lest I be seen. 
 
 Two women came upon me at the door. 
 
 Questioned, I answered 't was at his command 
 
 I came now toward the dusk ; he heeded not 
 
 My knocking. " Hush," they said, " and come away.' 
 
 The night was pitchy dark; I found the place 
 Ehud had told of; watched our men creep up; 
 Saw beacons on the hilltops; heard the shouts; 
 Beheld the palace fired, and the fight; 
 And knew our men were victors everywhere. 
 
E^lon and EKud 35 
 
 Then came a weird and unforgotten sight : 
 Great fires were kindled at the river fords, 
 Reddening the shallows with their plenteous glare, 
 So that each ripple stood out visible, 
 And nothing living could keep hid at all. 
 
 And thus they trapped all Moabites who fled, 
 And butchered them at every pass and ford. 
 Before the dawn, my Ehud came to me, 
 And took me home in triumph. Here I dwell. 
 Beholding Israel honored and at peace. 
 
SHAMGAR. 
 
 And after him was Shamgar the son of Anath, which slew 
 of the Philistines six hundred men with an ox-goad: and he 
 also delivered Israel. — Judges, iii., 31. 
 
 A HALF-CLAD mountain boy, who swung his goad. 
 Trod hghtly up the narrow, flinty road, 
 Sparing his oxen at each steeper turn. 
 Below, in choked rock-clefts, the spluttering burn 
 Gurgled and churned, and the cart's rough-hewn pole 
 Creaked in the yoke with every swing and roll 
 Of the slow hulks that drew it. From the wall, 
 That showed afar above, an evening call 
 Sank through the windless interspace, a far 
 Faint ghost of sound. There in the east one star 
 Showed by the towers. The western sky was white. 
 Below the hills the pinions of the night 
 Covered the plain, save where some water shone, 
 A mirror in the darkened space, alone. 
 A sharp turn brought him to a level place 
 Where under close trees for a little space 
 The road clung to the cliff ; the branches made 
 An archway where the sable shadows weighed 
 Upon his eyes. When it was almost past, 
 A shade upon its outlet there was cast, 
 
 36 
 
SKamgar 37 
 
 And in the opening a figure stood 
 Against the sky, framed by the rock and wood, 
 Like a dark warrior graven on the field 
 Of a smooth, oval, shining, silver shield. 
 The oxen halted. Shamgar, weak with fear, 
 Leaned on the cart. The Philistine, his spear 
 Levelled, approached him, laughed with scornful joy 
 To see the slender, narrow-shouldered boy; 
 Gestured; then dropped his spear-head to the ground, 
 While Shamgar, trembling, turned his oxen round. 
 And then, with words he did not understand, 
 Shamgar beheld him ask, with outstretched hand, 
 The goad, and bid him walk along before — 
 Trusting the dread the desert raiders bore 
 To all around, to keep the boy from flight. 
 A wave of blood washed over his drowned sight; 
 His brain was stormed with hate and mastering fears; 
 And all the deaths were yelling at his ears. 
 Burning and blind, he struck one random blow, 
 Hopeless and maddened, at his towering foe : 
 And then, before his raging dread took shape 
 In flight, or his thews loosened to escape. 
 The armored hulk fell prone across his path, 
 And wondering triumph trampled out his wrath. 
 He snatched the slain man's dirk, and, in one leap. 
 Between his beard and gorget drove it deep ; 
 And then, borne down by rage, success, and fears. 
 Fell, weak and limp, and struggling with his tears. 
 Mastering himself, he rose, and from the dead 
 Stripping the corselet, from the shaggy head 
 Pulled off the helmet, and almost with awe 
 Felt the crushed temple-bone and glowing, saw 
 
38 SHam^ar 
 
 How deep the blow had broken. On the wain 
 He heaped his spoils; turned his slow beasts again; 
 Passed safely up the roadway to the town ; 
 Through gathering mists and shadows swart and 
 
 brown ; 
 And, when the battered, grimy gates were wide. 
 Passed in, with shouts of praise from every side. 
 To greet the eyes of her he hoped for bride. 
 
 II 
 
 An instant his heart ceased to beat ; he stood gasping ; 
 
 then he 
 Dashed forward. As, mightily panting, he ran, he 
 
 could see 
 That neither the house nor the crops nor the stacks 
 
 by the barn 
 Had been fired. Much plunder was left. The tracks 
 
 by the tarn 
 Were a score. Through his home, in a breath, just a 
 
 bare glance he took. 
 It was silent; no corpse; nothing living. He gave 
 
 one more look 
 At the footprints. No marks were there there of 
 
 small, sandalless feet. 
 His girdle he tightened; his cloak dropped, and silent 
 
 and fleet. 
 He set off up the face of the hill, through the saplings 
 
 and brush ; 
 Reached the crown of the first in a steady, untiring 
 
 rush ; 
 There he stopped ; felt the ground ; gazed about, and 
 
 looked backward and out 
 
SKam^ar 39 
 
 Down the slope and around toward the plain. It was 
 
 here that their scout 
 Had kept watch for his coming, and had given warning 
 
 for flight. 
 But the path up the rocks was untrodden; by that 
 
 on the right 
 The watcher had hurried to join with his mates. 
 
 His ascent 
 He resumed, and from midday till twilight he steadily 
 
 went 
 Up the bare, broken hills, and crossed over the steep 
 
 craggy crest, 
 After hours of tireless running, and still without 
 
 rest 
 In the moonlight he dashed down through wooded 
 
 ravines, tore through vines. 
 Burst laboredly into low thickets or raced under 
 
 pines 
 On the crisp, polished floors of dry needles. Near 
 
 midnight, at last 
 He stopped in a slope of dense briars, and heavily 
 
 cast 
 His wearied-out body on earth, and lay shaking and 
 
 weak. 
 His limbs all a-quiver with heat, too exhausted to 
 
 speak. 
 He lay still, he breathed slower, he listened. A 
 
 little below 
 The road was all white in the moon-rays, and softly 
 
 and slow 
 In the distance the patter of hoofs and the heavier 
 
 sound 
 
40 SHamg'ar 
 
 Of feet hastening and weary with leagues of uneven 
 
 hard ground 
 Emerged faintly from out of the silence, a whispering 
 
 rhyme 
 Of movement. He rose, breathed a prayer that 
 
 he had been in time. 
 His goad in his right hand, he crept near the brink 
 
 of the bank, 
 And into the bushes and shadows he noiselessly 
 
 sank. 
 The sheep came in sight and behind them were two of 
 
 the band, 
 The rest were ahead and among them ... he tightened 
 
 his hand. 
 The ragged and footsore marauders, still followed 
 
 by fears 
 Of pursuit and recapture, looked backward, all 
 
 trailing their spears. 
 Their eyes on the roadway behind and their minds 
 
 all a-chafe 
 At the leagues yet before they would reach the rock- 
 pass and be safe. 
 The brushwood stirred somewhat above them, the 
 
 branches were rent 
 As though by a huge, rolling boulder a landslide 
 
 had sent 
 Down the slope: a dark form leapt the bank, and before 
 
 they could know 
 What to look for, the terrible goad had laid six of 
 
 them low. 
 Like bulrushes broke at its blows the long shafts 
 
 of their spears 
 
SKamgar 41 
 
 As they set on him, dazed and made slow by the clog 
 
 of their fears. 
 The drivers behind the checked flock heard the cry: 
 
 "It is he!" 
 And turned back without looking, all breathless and 
 
 silent, to flee. 
 The two that had guard of the woman found all of 
 
 their strength 
 Would not hold her, and now there were eight who 
 
 lay writhing at length 
 With limbs broken, or, still, with crushed skulls in 
 
 the gravelly road, 
 And unwounded he stood, and whirled round him the 
 
 terrible goad. 
 Their leader, girt on with a sword, set upon him, and 
 
 he 
 Fell also, his bones crushed and rent at the joint of 
 
 the knee. 
 The cravens fell back at the sight, and the ill-fated 
 
 pair, 
 Struggling still with the woman, he set on and slew 
 
 unaware ; 
 In a niche in the rock she crouched cowering behind 
 
 him. The swell 
 Of his blood was aflame with success, and his mighty 
 
 blows fell 
 More surely; his vast sable beard hardly stirred in 
 
 the wind, 
 And the raiders, still snarling and fierce, but their 
 
 band sadly thinned. 
 Pressed round him, ashamed to give way to one 
 
 unaided foe, 
 
42 SKamgar 
 
 Each unwilling to be first to flee, and all longing to 
 
 go. 
 His eyes flashed in the moonlight; his height seemed 
 
 to grow; they were awed 
 By the girth of the man; and his shoulders seemed 
 
 wondrously broad. 
 The bravest ran under his guard; pierced his thigh; 
 
 but the rest 
 Stood aghast when one blow crushed in the ribbed 
 
 arch of his chest. 
 He dashed in among them; one dropped, his jaw 
 
 broken, and one 
 Reeled back with an arm dangling helpless; the 
 
 fighting was done. 
 All turned them and fled, some toward home, for their 
 
 lives, down the steep, 
 And a brace up the road through the midst of the 
 
 terrified sheep. 
 Their steps died away in the moon-dusk, and he was 
 
 alone 
 With the quivering woman whose sobbing had sunk 
 
 to a moan. 
 He turned, and his arms were around her, his face by 
 
 her face. 
 And their love and rejoicing forgot both the time and 
 
 the place. 
 The stampeded sheep gathered bleating; the rising 
 
 wind roared; 
 The wounded men groaned in the road; Shamgar 
 
 searched for the sword; 
 Then the moanings were still. When at last the 
 
 scared oxen were found. 
 
SKamgar 43 
 
 He stripped off the arms of the dead, and upon them 
 
 he bound 
 The spoils on the heaped sacks of plunder they even 
 
 yet bore; 
 The dead men he counted, and sought in the darkness 
 
 for more. 
 The sheep and the oxen turned homeward ; he set out 
 
 to wend 
 The slow march to the home he had made, and knew 
 
 how to defend. 
 With the wife he had saved once again, his beloved. 
 
 The sun rose; 
 And fifteen fresh notches the goad had to tell of 
 
 his foes. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Why are the raiders so cautious, and why do they 
 
 go 
 Hundreds together, close-marching and scouting 
 
 and slow; 
 They that ranged over the country by couples and 
 
 threes. 
 Laden with booty, wherever they found it to seize? 
 They have been taught that a score may be scattered 
 
 like chaff: 
 Swords are as glass to the blows of a tough-knotted 
 
 staff. 
 Dwellers that quaked in the cities, the thickest of 
 
 wall. 
 Fight in the open, when Shamgar has sounded the 
 
 call. 
 
44 SHam^ar 
 
 They that fled quicker than jackals in the earlier 
 days 
 
 Fight, when he leads them, like lions in hope of his 
 praise. 
 
 Yea, and more dreaded than squadrons with serried- 
 set shields 
 
 Shamgar himself is to all that range woodlands or 
 fields. 
 
 Is it the corpse of their cousin the raiders have 
 found? 
 
 Crushed ribs and skull tell their tale to the blood- 
 sodden ground. 
 
 Are their spies certain he dwells in his homestead 
 at rest? 
 
 Leagues over country that night he slays one of their 
 best. 
 
 Is it a warrior is missed from the council or feast? 
 
 Yea, then the goad has one notch that is freshest, 
 at least. 
 
 IV 
 
 Even as he fell, a shout arose 
 
 From the hillside, and his thronging foes 
 
 Glanced behind, and turned themselves and fled. 
 
 Leaving all their wounded and their dead 
 
 Where they fell. The rescuers pursued, 
 
 Fresh and fierce and eager. Crimson-hued 
 
 Every sword and spear was before noon, 
 
 And the slaughter ceased not till the moon 
 
 Sank into the embers of the sun ; 
 
 And of those that fled was left not one. 
 
SKamg'ar 45 
 
 Hot and grim the victors hastened back, 
 
 Guided by their own corpse-bordered track, 
 
 Whereon none of them had taken harm. 
 
 With the dawn they reached the waiHng farm, 
 
 Sixty henchmen, woundless one and all. 
 
 And his seven sons, black-browed and tall. 
 
 There they found the women on the ground. 
 
 With the untouched bodies all around. 
 
 And his mighty corpse, untouched as well, 
 
 On the sill, lying as he fell. 
 
 When rebuked the slave- women replied: 
 
 "She is still as though herself had died 
 
 And we dared not touch him save she bade. 
 
 We who are not worthy," The sons made 
 
 With their hands a bier, but when they came 
 
 To uplift him, awe without a name 
 
 Froze their limbs and speech. For he lay there. 
 
 His eyes gazing without threat or glare. 
 
 His vast silver beard upon his breast. 
 
 Hiding all his wounds, as though at rest. 
 
 But his right hand gripped the mighty goad. 
 
 Whereon clotted blood and hair still showed 
 
 How it had been wielded, and so tight 
 
 That the knuckles needed three men's might 
 
 To unlock them. Reverently they laid 
 
 On the bier his body, all afraid 
 
 As they touched it; counted then the dead, 
 
 And the goad's old tale of notches read 
 
 Some five hundred notches and threescore. 
 
 And his sons cut on it forty more. 
 
THE LEVITE. 
 (Judges, xix., 27.) 
 
 YEA, I have looked upon vengeance, beheld the 
 sword how it smote them, 
 Seen the accursed destroyed with their wives and 
 
 henchmen and tribesmen, 
 Till but a handful were left wherein ran the blood 
 
 of their people, 
 Barely a handful, and all of them were assuredly 
 
 guiltless. 
 Nevertheless I cannot find rest or peace for me 
 
 living, 
 Nor any troubleless sleep till I wake in the grave 
 
 from all dreaming. 
 Still I behold, awake or asleep, the gore-dripping 
 
 panniers ; 
 Still my fingers creep with the tingling of flesh as I 
 
 cut it. 
 How can I drop to sleep, when every drowsiness 
 
 brings me, 
 Back to my aging senses, my weariness after our 
 
 journey? 
 What can lull me to rest when I feel again how she 
 
 lulled me? 
 Lulled me that very night with tender words and 
 
 with whispers; 
 
 46 
 
TKe Levite 47 
 
 Soothed me gently to sleep, her fingers cool on my 
 
 forehead, 
 So that, as a man is aware in dreams of noises that 
 
 are not, 
 In such wise, and no other, the insolent, riotous 
 
 knocking. 
 Thundering at the gates like the hoofs of cattle 
 
 stampeded. 
 Came to my sleep-walled ears like the croon of waves 
 
 on the sea-beach. 
 How can I sleep when sleep reminds me I might have 
 
 wakened ; 
 Might have wakened, and saved her, and kept her 
 
 living and with me? 
 How can I look on the sun when I feel how it rose 
 
 and beheld me 
 Stunned and sunk in a stupor beside her there on the 
 
 doorstep ? 
 For I awoke before dawn and found that she was not 
 
 beside me. 
 Therefore I rose in haste, for I thought she had 
 
 risen before me, 
 So that she might prepare all things for our early 
 
 departure. 
 And, when I opened the door, I saw her sunk on the 
 
 threshold 
 Dead and scarcely cold, and her rose-leaf fingers 
 
 were weakly 
 Curled, like wilting petals, and fallen against the 
 
 woodwork 
 On the outside of the cruel door that she could not 
 
 open. 
 
48 THe L-evite 
 
 Yea, and the air was cool, and the stars above us 
 
 were paling; 
 All the eastern sky was green as a precious stone 
 
 is. 
 And the horizon warmed with crimson wondrously 
 
 painted. 
 Yet I cursed the sky and the night and sleeping and 
 
 waking. 
 How can I live, and be with these memories still in 
 
 my keeping? 
 How can I sleep and forget, when I hear her agonized 
 
 crying ? 
 Hear in my dreams her voice that calls in despair 
 
 and terror; 
 Calls in a turmoil and spasm of fear that cannot 
 
 be silent; 
 Cries out because it must, and struggles and yearns 
 
 for rescue ; 
 And yet smothers its crying with dread of what may 
 
 befall me, 
 Dread its accents thrill with, lest perchance I should 
 
 hear it. 
 
BENAIAH. 
 
 Koi auT09 Kare^r] koI eTrara^e tov Aeovra iv /<€0"a> tov 
 XaKKOv iv Trj rj/^iipa. T^s ;)(iovos. — II SaMUEL, xxiii, 20. 
 
 WEEKS, two weeks, of cold had dwelt about us. 
 And the mountain beasts were starved and 
 savage. 
 All the sky was slaty gray at sunset 
 Save the gory-hearted west horizon; 
 And before the night was well upon us, 
 From the sad, uncolumned vault a snowflake 
 Fell into the bosom of my sister. 
 From the windless sky the powdered feathers 
 Sank straight down through the unstirred night-silence 
 Till the moonless darkness was illumined 
 With a dusty and unearthly glimmer. 
 And we doubted of Benaiah's coming, 
 For the rock paths of the treeless mountains 
 Grow impassable with icy glazing; 
 And we knew the leagues were surely slower 
 To traverse, if he should be persistent. 
 But my sister's eyes had no doubt in them. 
 While she sat and gazed into the embers, 
 And her neck was curved as if she hearkened. 
 Slowly, log by log, the roaring fire 
 Crumbled into coals half hid by ashes, 
 4 49 
 
so DenaiaK 
 
 And my brothers rose up to restore it. 
 
 Then her face changed, as if she heard him, 
 
 And she loosed the bolts inside the doorpost; 
 
 Flung the door wide with a joyful outcry ; 
 
 And we saw, in the uncertain darkness. 
 
 Two huge, glassy, yellow eyeballs shining; 
 
 Heard the roar that drowned her smothered screaming ; 
 
 Saw the massive, tawny shape above her, 
 
 All in one half breath; and there was nothing 
 
 Save the blood-stained snow about the doorway. 
 
 When we dashed outside with brands and lances. 
 
 But our brands died while the trail still led us, 
 
 And we slunk home weeping in the darkness 
 
 Wherein now no snowflakes were falling. 
 
 All night long we sat awake and speechless, 
 
 With the doorway barred, and on the fire 
 
 Heaps of faggots crackling and enkindling, 
 
 While the women wailed and mourned above us. 
 
 In the gray of dawn we saw Benaiah 
 
 Striding through the pines against the sky-line, 
 
 On the frozen ravine's farther cliff-top. 
 
 None of us dared face him, or the love-light 
 
 In his yearning eyes as he approached us ; 
 
 None made any answer when he questioned, 
 
 Till a tiny girl-child, weeping, pointed 
 
 To the red trail in the frozen snow-crust. 
 
 All his face was rigid as a dead man's, 
 
 And he strode away, his scabbard clanking. 
 
 Tramping in the claw-prints ; but he had not 
 
 Given any sign of understanding, 
 
 And his lips and eyes had made no movement. 
 
 When we plucked up heart and followed after, 
 
Denaiarx 51 
 
 We beheld him in a ruined cistern, 
 
 Full three fathoms deep, and walled with boulders. 
 
 He was sitting down collapsed and shrunken, 
 
 By a something which I blenched to look at. 
 
 The blown snow was not so deeply drifted 
 
 But that we could see in it some fragments, 
 
 Frayed and battered, which had been a lion. 
 
DEIOCES. 
 
 AMONG the doubtful, mute conspirators 
 The youngest rose and spoke: "The first sent 
 out 
 Has failed or faltered. Send another man 
 Who may do better. Let us cast the lots; 
 Or, if you all approve me, I will try." 
 The oldest plotter tugged his grizzled beard, 
 And said: "The slave-girl, our confederate, 
 Is not suspected, and she waits without. 
 After we hear the story which she brings, 
 We shall be better ready to decide." 
 The girl came in, not wholly at her ease 
 Among those huddled faces, row on row, 
 Crafty or fierce, according to their years. 
 She said: "He entered as had been agreed. 
 The moon was high among the quiet stars. 
 Its light was stencilled on the silent floors 
 A hand's-breadth wide below the lattices; 
 Enough of light there was to see his way. 
 Too little for him plainly to be seen. 
 The King's slow breathing guided him along. 
 I could not hear his foot-falls as he went. 
 I watched him till he was beside the bed ; 
 Then moved a trifle from the aperture 
 
 52 
 
Deioces 53 
 
 That I might truly swear I had not seen. 
 
 I heard a stir and movement from the bed, 
 
 The planting of two firm unhurried feet. 
 
 I looked again. The King was there, erect, 
 
 His right hand held Harbanus by the throat ; 
 
 His left hand gripped him by the armed right wrist. 
 
 He did not sway. I could not hear him breathe. 
 
 Harbanus writhed and presently let drop 
 
 The dagger, and it fell upon the bed 
 
 And made no noise. The King moved inch by inch. 
 
 And yet without an effort, as it seemed, 
 
 Took up the dagger, drove it firm and deep. 
 
 And then, as gently as a father might 
 
 Lay in its cot to rest his sleeping child. 
 
 Lowered the body slowly to the floor. 
 
 I was afraid to run or slink away, 
 
 And saw him climb again into the bed. 
 
 Cover himself, and soon I heard him breathe 
 
 As evenly as early in the night. 
 
 It was half daylight when he called at length. 
 
 I was among the women of that watch, 
 
 And mingled with the others: 'Send some slaves,' 
 
 He told us calmly. ' Have them clean the floor.' 
 
 And then he turned and slept or seemed to sleep. 
 
 When he arose, Phraortes, white and tense, 
 
 Asked why he had not called the palace guards. 
 
 * What need for guards when I had killed the fool ? ' 
 
 His father answered in his placid tones. 
 
 'There might have been another,' said his son. 
 
 'Well,' said the King, 'and had there been a score 
 
 Which do you fancy they would have preferred. 
 
 To enter as he did or stay without?' " 
 
54 Deioces 
 
 After the girl had left, the plotters sat, 
 Eying each other long, while no man spoke. 
 When finally one warrior rose he said: 
 "This man we chose is certainly our king." 
 
THE TITAN. 
 
 BEFORE young Jove harangued the clouds, 
 Before Poseidon trod the waves 
 And shook the earthquakes from their shrouds, 
 Before Dis numbered all the graves, 
 The Titans governed all, 
 
 And Kronos was their king; 
 And each thing, great and small, 
 Remained the self-same thing. 
 
 The fairest of the Titan throng. 
 
 The strongest and most filled with pride. 
 Was he who ruled the world of song, 
 Whose tunes re-echoed far and wide: 
 Loving his perfect wife, 
 
 Placid, content, and grave; 
 His music filled his life. 
 
 And made its lord its slave. 
 
 He sang of restful, perfumed noon ; 
 
 Of sunsets in immortal skies; 
 Of waters silvered by the moon ; 
 
 Of morns when suns were glad to rise ; 
 Of pleasant sounds and sights ; 
 
 Of easy streams and ways ; 
 Of storm-forgotten nights; 
 And tuned, discordless days. 
 55 
 
56 XHe Titan 
 
 Instinctive, with no thought of choice, 
 
 He sang with all the woods in spring; 
 But the gaunt forest's winter voice 
 He did not hear and could not sing: 
 The blue gulf's tropic calm 
 
 He echoed note for note; 
 But never the vast psalm 
 
 From the storm- wrenched night-sea's throat. 
 
 The sun-baked sand-waste's husky groan, 
 
 The ice-field's startled, tortured roar. 
 The thoughtful pine-land's midnight moan, 
 The blind caves in the ocean's floor. 
 And all things fraught with fears, 
 
 Touched by a test or smart. 
 Were shut from out his ears 
 And known not by his heart. 
 
 Men's harvest festivals he hymned, 
 
 Their wedding fervor and their mirth; 
 And all their days by care undimmed, 
 And all the pleasures of their earth ; 
 Their lives lived out in vain, 
 
 Their anvils' sobs that rang, 
 Their passion and their pain, 
 He neither guessed nor sang. 
 
 Beloved by Titans and by men. 
 
 He felt his songs pervade the days; 
 Heard his tunes echoed back again 
 
 Fulfilled with earth's and heaven's praise: 
 
THe Titan 57 
 
 Without a fault or flaw 
 
 They were the stars' decree, 
 And the earth's tidal law 
 
 Attuning land and sea. 
 
 And he, the lord of harmony, 
 
 Found heaven dear and earth delight, 
 Both made of his own melody 
 
 And goodly to his sense and sight; 
 And often he would go 
 
 Far from his home above, 
 To taste from men below 
 
 Their worship and their love. 
 
 Where King Admetus ruled the land. 
 
 He strolled once through bright meadow-slopes, 
 Between the forest and the strand, 
 
 And met — his eyes ablaze with hopes — 
 The eager shepherd lad 
 
 Who watched the monarch's sheep, 
 Fair-haired, his blue eyes sad, 
 Smiling, and quick to weep. 
 
 And breathless and unasked he spoke: 
 
 "My Lord, you sing such perfect songs! 
 In my heart, too, the songs awoke 
 
 Long since: the clamped earth's pains and wrongs, 
 Its labors and its fears. 
 
 Its cold and bitter heat, 
 Blend strangely in my ears 
 
 In rare strains, new and sweet. 
 
58 The Titan 
 
 "And what I sing I do not know, 
 
 And vainly do I wonder why, 
 And with the days my hopes still grow 
 That men will hear me by and by: 
 Some good thing for the land 
 
 May be in every word. 
 Your race might understand, 
 
 If through your help they heard." 
 
 The kind eyes saw, and saw him not, 
 
 The soothing hand half stroked his hair, 
 The lips that answered half forgot 
 All, save their own songs everywhere: 
 The Titan, whom no woes 
 
 Had touched, who knew but joy. 
 Knew not a young god grows 
 Like any other boy. 
 
 " My son," he said, "sing and be glad. 
 But sing no troubles, throes, or fears. 
 Be calm. No healthy heart grows mad. 
 Dream not to reach the Titans' ears. 
 Unto their homes no word of 
 
 Your songs, like smoke upcurled 
 May rise: yours are unheard of 
 And my songs fill the world." 
 
 And, pacing toward the white-walled town. 
 With satisfied, rapt eyes and ears. 
 
 He did not see the boy's quick frown. 
 Nor hear the tempest of his tears: 
 
TKe Xitan 59 
 
 Nor mark how soon his grief 
 
 Merged in a sombre song, 
 Thin, Hke an autumn leaf. 
 
 And quivering, but strong. 
 
 But, when afar, the songs pursued 
 His senses, blotted out his own, 
 And frighted him with vague, subdued 
 Suggestions of far fields unmown. 
 And all his heart was stirred, 
 
 And told of everything 
 That he had never heard 
 And he could never sing: 
 
 The rest that comes but after toil ; 
 
 The gladness that is born of pain ; 
 The justice that no sin can foil; 
 
 The strength that can hope on in vain: 
 Beauty that contrast gives; 
 
 How peace comes out of strife; 
 How trust contends and lives, 
 And death illtmiines life. 
 
 Then many ripening ages passed, 
 
 And imperceptibly as frost 
 Revokes its settled seals at last, 
 
 Withdraws and dwindles and is lost. 
 The Titans' rooted strength, 
 
 So perfect in its days, 
 Dissolved away at length 
 As though a morning haze. 
 
6o XHe Titan 
 
 Jove ruled and all the gods were throned, 
 
 Apollo's songs, all warmth and light, 
 Through heaven and through earth intoned 
 Their twin threads, woven dark and bright: 
 The tempests and the stars, 
 
 The free, glad buds that sprang. 
 The cowed things galled by bars. 
 Together woke and sang. 
 
 From every drowning seaman's breath, 
 
 From gasps of women's breaking hearts, 
 From shame, despair, and sin, and death, 
 From petty chafings of the marts, 
 From qualms that blench and pine. 
 
 From hates unclean and mute. 
 He wrung sweet songs, like wine 
 Pressed from the tortured fruit. 
 
 No longer now for happy lords 
 
 And never for dulled, hapless slaves 
 The star-songs pulsed : in full accords 
 
 They searched not only homes but graves. 
 And all things dear and dread. 
 
 That foster and destroy. 
 Sang out, the days that bled 
 With days that burst for joy. 
 
 . And in the air the new songs thrilled 
 The unregarded Titan fared 
 Through fields and woods his songs had filled, 
 Where his old notes of pride had blared, 
 
XKe Titan 6i 
 
 And there Apollo met 
 
 Him, from, the days foregone 
 A wraith that lingered yet; 
 
 A starlet quenched by dawn. 
 
 The Titan, aged and sad, besought: 
 
 "In your best music's perfect bloom 
 Can there be granted space for naught 
 Of my songs to survive my gloom ? 
 Your strains are true and strong, 
 
 But men loved mine of old. 
 Surely they were not wrong, 
 Some of my tunes w^ere gold?" 
 
 The young god answered, clear and swift, 
 
 "I asked you once, in my lone youth, 
 A little patience to uplift 
 
 To ears enthroned my hope and truth : 
 The help you might have lent 
 
 To me in my distress. 
 My strength and yearning blent, 
 You did not even guess. 
 
 "But this thing which you ask of me 
 
 Could not be brought to pass again 
 By them that rule the sky, the sea. 
 
 The births, the souls, the graves of men : 
 The distance is immense 
 
 Between our sundered arts. 
 For your songs pleased men's sense, 
 And my songs stir men's hearts. 
 
62 XKe Titan 
 
 "This thing Jove's thunder could not give, 
 
 Nay, nor could god-compelling fate : 
 Your songs had their own time to live, 
 This present is for them too late: 
 The vague old time was rotten, 
 
 Its phantoms' wings are furled, 
 And your songs are forgotten, 
 And my songs fill the world." 
 
THE LAST BOWSTRINGS. 
 
 THEY had brought in such sheafs of hair, 
 And flung them all about us there 
 In the loud noonday's heat and glare: 
 Gold tresses, far too fine to wind. 
 And brown, with copper curls entwined. 
 And black coils, black as all my mind. 
 
 In the low, stifling armory, 
 
 Whence we could hear, but might not flee, 
 
 The roar of that engirdling sea, 
 
 Whose waves were helmet-crests of foes. 
 
 Winding the cords we sat, in rows, 
 
 Beside a mound of stringless bows. 
 
 Since the first hill-scouts panted in, 
 
 Before siege- fires and battle din 
 
 Filled night and day, and filled within 
 
 Our hearts and brains with flame and sound, 
 
 We had sat, huddled on the ground. 
 
 Our tears hot on the cords we wound. 
 
 We knew, when the first tidings came. 
 That not the gods from death or shame 
 Could save us, fighting clothed in flame. 
 63 
 
64 XHe Last Bo^rstrin^s 
 
 The mid-sea's marshalled waves are few 
 
 Beside the warriors girt with blue 
 
 The gorged hill-passes then let through. 
 
 Their spears shook like dry wind-stirred reeds 
 
 Stiff in a marsh's miles of reeds; 
 
 Loud blared the neighing of their steeds; 
 
 The whole wide land beneath the stars 
 
 Felt, from wheel ruts, or fierce hoof-scars, 
 
 The deluge of their rumbling cars. 
 
 Against our walls their flood was dammed, 
 Within which, till each porch was jammed, 
 Farm-folk and fisher-folk were crammed: 
 Heaped stones inside the gates were piled. 
 While all above us, calm and mild. 
 In bitter scorn the heavens smiled. 
 
 Our men dwelt on the walls and towers, 
 From over which, for endless hours, 
 The hissing arrows flew in showers; 
 The sling-stones, too, came crashing down. 
 As though the gods of far renown 
 Hurled thunderbolts into the town. 
 
 Where the hung temples showed their lights 
 Some women prayed upon the heights ; 
 Some stole about throughout the nights, — ■ 
 Who bore the warriors food by day, — 
 Gleaning the arrows as they lay 
 That they might hurtle back to slay. 
 
XKe Last Bo-wstrings 65 
 
 And where the rooms were heaped with stores, 
 Because the stringless bows were scores, 
 We were shut in with guarded doors; 
 All day at hurried toil we kept. 
 And when the darkness on us crept 
 We lay, each in her place, and slept. 
 
 Quick as we worked, we could not make 
 Strings fast as bowmen came to take 
 Fresh bows: and, oh, the grinding ache 
 Of hearts and fingers : maid and slave 
 And princess, we toiled on to save 
 Home that already was our grave. 
 
 Six days we wound the cords with speed ; 
 
 Naught else from us had any heed. 
 
 For bitter was our rage and need. 
 
 At last, upon the seventh day, 
 
 Into the fury of the fray 
 
 They called our very guard away. 
 
 No food was brought us. Faint with thirst, 
 
 What wonder was it if, at first. 
 
 Some wailed that the town gates were burst? 
 
 If later, to the last embraces 
 
 Of child or mother, from their places 
 
 Some slunk away with ashen faces? 
 
 I cursed them through the door unbarred; 
 
 I vowed I would not move a yard. 
 
 Lest some one man of ours, pressed hard, 
 
66 XKe L-ast Do"wstrings 
 
 Might be left weaponless alone. 
 Until I died or turned to stone, 
 I would wind were the hair mine own. 
 
 A sudden shiver shook my frame, 
 I looked up with my face aflame ; 
 But, oh, no tongue has any name 
 For the despair I saw enthroned 
 In my love's eyes, all purple-zoned! 
 I smiled to greet him, and I groaned. 
 
 He buckled on a fresh cuirass, — 
 His own was but a tattered mass 
 Of gory thongs. I saw him pass 
 Out of the portal ; with good-byes 
 And blessings filled, and yearning sighs, 
 For the last time I saw his eyes. 
 
 Each moment, all my blood areel, 
 
 I felt the thrust of deadly steel 
 
 I knew his body soon must feel. 
 
 My heart was choked with prayerful speech; 
 
 The high deaf gods were out of reach ; 
 
 My eyes dry as a noonday beach. 
 
 More cowards left. Few now remained. 
 Still at our task we strove and strained 
 With bleeding hands and iron-brained; 
 And still my fingers all were fleet, 
 Though in my temples burned and beat 
 The murmur of the stunning heat. 
 
XHe Last Do-wstring's 67 
 
 There rushed in for fresh arms just then 
 Some of our allies, — small dark men; 
 It slowly dawned upon my ken 
 That one, who by a spear- heap kneeled, 
 Fierce-browed and grimy from the field, 
 Carried my brother's painted shield. 
 
 My heart beat in long, tearing throbs; 
 Sharp torchlights stormed my eyes in mobs ; 
 And my breath came in rasping sobs ; 
 The tears from both my cheeks I wrung ; 
 So wet my hands were that they clung 
 Slipping along the cord I strung. 
 
 Mutely we toiled until my maid, 
 Her lips tense as the strands she laid, 
 Grew wan; her deft quick fingers strayed: 
 Then she pitched forward with a groan, 
 And lay, white, motionless, and prone. 
 I wound on hastily, alone. 
 
 Harsh and unevenly outside 
 
 Shields clanged. Men called, and cursed, and cried; 
 
 And when again the latch was tried 
 
 My knife lay somewhere on the floor. 
 
 Alas! I found it not before 
 
 Three armored foemen burst the door. 
 
KRANAE. 
 
 DROWNED, weed-grown crags the waters hide 
 Far under the Ionian sea 
 Once flashed aloft in gleaming pride 
 The sunlit peaks of Kranae. 
 
 Blue waves, turned silver-surf in ranks. 
 
 Played round her cliffs, white, clean, and high, 
 
 Cool forest-leafage clothed her flanks 
 In shimmering green against the sky. 
 
 Between sharp reefs an entrance wound 
 
 Into the port, where, sheltered well, 
 The tiny, white-walled town shone round 
 
 Its temple and its citadel. 
 
 No change their island world had neared 
 
 From mobs to self-reliance schooled. 
 Obeyed and honored, loved and feared. 
 
 Their orphaned king unquestioned ruled. 
 
 The posted watchers on the height 
 
 Conned all the sky-rim, island-free, 
 And if strange sails appeared in sight 
 
 Signalled the fishing-craft to flee. 
 68 
 
Ii.ranae 69 
 
 One day at dusk, short-breathed and pale, 
 Their runners roused the town to fear, 
 
 A war-fleet of a hundred sail 
 
 Out of the east was drawing near. 
 
 They waited, every man arrayed, 
 
 Their galleys out as channel-guards, 
 But lo! the stranger-ships displayed 
 
 Green olive-sprays from prows and yards. 
 
 They found them Greeks in race and speech 
 
 Bound from Phocaea, on the quest 
 Of homes out of the Persians' reach 
 
 In Corsica, beyond the west. 
 
 They beached their ships along the shore, 
 The cliff-hung, scythe-shaped sweep of sand 
 
 Where, such uncounted years before, 
 Paris and Helen came to land. 
 
 A long curved row of fires burned, 
 
 And with their crimson radiance dyed 
 
 The cliffs, the strand, the sable-sterned, 
 Ranked ships that hid the deep outside. 
 
 Black cauldrons swung against the flame, 
 
 Cloaked crouchers round the blaze were warmed. 
 
 And in the glare that went and came 
 The islanders and voyagers swarmed. 
 
 Presents of cattle, fruits, and bread 
 The generous folk made haste to bring, 
 
 The elders came and at their head 
 
 Their handsome, young, unmarried king. 
 
yo Ilranae 
 
 From group to sea-worn group he went, 
 Gentle of voice and quick to please, 
 
 And left them solaced and content, 
 Hopeful and cheered and at their ease. 
 
 About the farthest fire stood 
 
 Tall women with their new-grown girls; 
 One in a cloak, whose fallen hood 
 
 Revealed her rippling, golden curls, 
 
 Erinna, daughter of the best 
 
 Of all Phocsea's richest men. 
 Her father, at the king's request. 
 
 Called her, presented her, and then 
 
 Somehow they drew apart, and soon 
 
 Strolled past the ships, where firelight failed. 
 
 Voices were blurred, and from the moon 
 Long sparkles on the water trailed. 
 
 The blaze-lit beach was ruddy gold. 
 The moonlit wave-slopes silver-white. 
 
 Around them was the manifold 
 Sweet mystery of summer night. 
 
 They paced, and did not need to speak; 
 
 She revelled in his martial air; 
 He watched the firelight warm her cheek, 
 
 The moonlight cool upon her hair. 
 
 Their hearts were full; their lips were dumb; 
 
 She breathed delight ; he could but note 
 How well rich jewels would become 
 
 Her low, broad brow and slender throat. 
 
K.ranae 71 
 
 Too rapt to feel how much they yearned, 
 
 To know how much their hearts were stirred, 
 
 Back to the camp-fire they returned 
 And parted there with scarce a word. 
 
 After a night of waking dreams, 
 
 The king resought the strand at dawn, 
 
 And found, before the sun's first gleams, 
 Swift preparation to be gone. 
 
 Amazed and taken by surprise, 
 
 He urged the wisdom of delay, 
 And still he did not realize 
 
 What he had hoped for in their stay. 
 
 Depart, the leaders said, they must. 
 
 Their hardy venture called for haste. 
 The strong, fair wind that they could trust 
 
 Proffered a help they dared not waste. 
 
 He watched them drag their galleys down. 
 Not knowing why he was distressed. 
 
 Then sent a runner to the town 
 To fetch his mother's jewel-chest. 
 
 And when the last-launched galley rode 
 
 And dipped upon the even swell, 
 Up to Erinna's folk he strode 
 
 To greet her and to say farewell. 
 
 He begged her mother's leave to deck 
 Her forehead with his mother's pearls; 
 
 Rubies and emeralds round her neck 
 He clasped, set deep in golden whirls. 
 
72 Uranae 
 
 Her father thanked him for his gift ; 
 
 They went on board ; the canvas drew ; 
 He watched the galley plunge and lift 
 
 And then grow small against the blue. 
 
 He watched the dim specks fade and melt 
 
 Into the sky-line, far away, 
 Not realizing what he felt 
 
 Through half the duties of the day. 
 
 The midday brought him no repose, 
 He could not sleep, could only brood, 
 
 And still his mind did not disclose 
 A comprehension of his mood. 
 
 His thoughts went westward with the fleet, 
 
 He saw them on a hostile coast. 
 Saw all the dangers they must meet 
 
 Swarm round them in a threatening host. 
 
 Sly Carthaginians would intrigue 
 
 With herdsmen, raiding from the downs, 
 
 Ligurian Gauls would join in league 
 With haughty, fierce Etruscan towns. 
 
 He saw Erinna, small and frail, 
 
 A timid, brave, pathetic shape, 
 Dragged on adventures that must fail 
 
 Through terrors she could not escape. 
 
 In a revealing flash that made 
 
 His heart stand still and stopped his breath 
 He saw assault succeed blockade. 
 
 Beheld her capture and her death. 
 
R.ranae 73 
 
 Plain as the sun's clear noonday disk 
 
 He saw how precious was to him 
 This treasure-girl he must not risk 
 
 On seas ferocious, wild, and grim. 
 
 In a bewildering, dazing dance 
 
 He felt his hopes and fears revolve, 
 Then saw his one remaining chance 
 
 And seized it with a swift resolve. 
 
 Using his special pride and joy, 
 
 The swiftest galley on the seas, 
 Knowing the lads he would employ. 
 
 He could come up to them with ease. 
 
 He chose his crew, explained their goal ; 
 
 All loved him, all were keen and staunch; 
 And then with an impatient soul 
 
 He urged them to prepare and launch. 
 
 The wind was fair, but at the oars 
 
 His comrades strained for greater speed, 
 
 Watching the sunlit island's shores. 
 Uplands, and dwindling peaks recede. 
 
 Straight towards the sunset clouds they drove, 
 Each man alert, no oar pulled slack, 
 
 Then through the dusk and night they clove 
 The shimmering moonglade's guiding track. 
 
 The relays, huddled, lay asleep; 
 
 The zealous rowers tugged and sang ; 
 The king steered, leaning on the sweep; 
 
 His brain with pride and glory rang, 
 
74 Rranae 
 
 To think that all this wood and bronze, 
 
 Cordage and sail and sinewed skill. 
 This speed as graceful as a swan's 
 
 Existed but to work his will. 
 
 After the moon was gone, the west, 
 
 As if the sunset reappeared. 
 Glowed with red Etna's spouting crest 
 
 And toward its gory glare they steered. 
 
 Later they saw the mountain loom ; 
 
 Then in the starshine they divined 
 Far headlands beetling in the gloom. 
 
 Black shapes in blackness ill-defined. 
 
 Before the eastern sky was gray, 
 
 Before the stars above were weak, 
 Low down abeam, along a bay, 
 
 They saw a twinkling, ruddy streak. 
 
 The oarsmen cheered, and craned to look ; 
 
 The sails and yards were stowed. They brought 
 The ship's head round; she leapt and shook, 
 
 Now headed for the camp they sought. 
 
 Lest their approach might cause alarm. 
 They beached her softly, with no sound, 
 
 Behind the point whose rocky arm 
 
 Sheltered the camp which they had found. 
 
 The king advanced alone, and crept 
 
 Past sentries, none of whom awoke. 
 To where around their fire slept. 
 
 Wrapped in their cloaks, Erinna's folk. 
 
Ilranae 75 
 
 Herself lay on her furs. He thrilled 
 To see her small, transparent hands 
 
 Clasping his gifts in sleep, and filled 
 
 With deep-hued gems and golden bands. 
 
 Longings for him had filled her heart 
 Till dreaming of him took their place, 
 
 And now, through eyelids slow to part, 
 She saw the lovelight on his face. 
 
 While round the sinking embers drowsed 
 The camp, the pale-lit shore was mute, 
 
 Erinna's kinsfolk were aroused 
 To pass upon her lover's suit. 
 
 He had their liking and respect ; 
 
 The gifts he offered in exchange 
 Were far too lavish to reject; 
 
 Besides they could not think it strange; 
 
 If they should venture to refuse 
 
 The maiden he so greatly prized, 
 He might be goaded on to use 
 
 The other means which they surmised: 
 
 The serried spearmen who might lurk. 
 
 Resolved to win success or fall. 
 Hid in the morning's mist, to work 
 
 His will and answer to his call. 
 
 They guessed them ready for a rush ; 
 
 Saw gifts far more than they could ask; 
 And saw the warrior's fury flush 
 
 Beneath his suave expression's mask 
 
76 tlranae 
 
 Therefore they gave her. All day long 
 Beside their galleys they rejoiced ; 
 
 With wedding-cheers and many a song 
 
 Their gladness and their hopes they voiced. 
 
 While of her hero she was glad, 
 To leave her parents she was loath, 
 
 But now the kindly breezes had 
 
 Veered southward till they favored both. 
 
 Before the dusk they started forth 
 
 Upon the ending of the feast. 
 The fleet rowed boldly towards the north, 
 
 The bridal galley towards the east. 
 
 The sunset reddened sails and spars; 
 
 The moonlight silvered all their wake; 
 The darkness shone with countless stars, 
 
 The dawn was just about to break. 
 
 Beside the rail the bride and groom 
 Wakeful and nestled, mute and fond, 
 
 Basked in a bliss that left no room 
 For thought of anything beyond. 
 
 They heeded not who watched or steered; 
 
 The toil-worn men in silence rowed, 
 Till Kranae from the waves appeared, 
 
 And back of it the sunrise glowed. 
 
 Thus to their loyal home they won. 
 
 And shared their palace and their throne 
 
 In happiness that was not done 
 
 After their children's sons were grown. 
 
Kranae 77 
 
 The aged lovers long were dead 
 
 And laid at peace among the graves 
 
 Before the day of shock and dread 
 That sunk their isle beneath the waves. 
 
 Their doubly-buried marble tomb 
 
 Still holds the undivided pair, 
 Unchanged and lifelike in the gloom, 
 
 His jewels round her throat and hair. 
 
THE RETRIBUTION. 
 
 IT was after the hosts of the Persian King were 
 utterly scattered and slain 
 That I made one of a scouting raid through a treeless 
 
 and waterless plain. 
 The King and the army had followed fast to the 
 
 mountains where Bessus had fled, 
 And we were a hundred rollicking lads with Mathos of 
 
 Crete at our head. 
 Our party was one of a score that the King had 
 
 scattered to harry the land, 
 And each was to act as each deemed best and carried 
 
 his life in his hand. 
 We left the road at the river ford, and we struck 
 
 through the trackless waste, 
 And ten leagues off we came to a spring that was 
 
 shaded and sweet to taste. 
 We left the spring, and in ten leagues more we came to 
 
 the castled peak 
 Where we had been told that a booty lay, which was 
 
 worth the coming to seek. 
 The castle had gardens all about, and was builded of 
 
 chiselled stone, 
 And the crag that bore it was steep and sheer, and 
 
 stood in the plain alone. 
 The walled road wound from the fortress gate to the 
 
 roots of the mighty hill, 
 78 
 
THe Retribvition 79 
 
 And twenty men might have held the place against all 
 
 our force or will. 
 But we were Alexander's men, and our name was a 
 
 terror to all, 
 And never a man would dare to fight, for what we 
 
 attacked must fall. 
 The lord was old and not overbold, and his vassals 
 
 were gray with fear. 
 And he sent his son to treat for terms as soon as 
 
 he saw us near. 
 And Mathos answered the land was ours, and all of 
 
 its souls our slaves, 
 And if one man of our band was harmed, the vultures 
 
 should dig their graves ; 
 But since they had greeted us courteously, we would 
 
 spare their homes and lives, 
 And take their horses and slaves and gold, and leave 
 
 their daughters and wives. 
 They led us into the castle court, and stabled the 
 
 horses all. 
 And each of us kept his sword at hand for aught that 
 
 might befall. 
 We ate, set guards at the gates, and slept, and rose 
 
 at the break of day 
 To search the castle from roof to rock for what we 
 
 could carry away. 
 The frightened women clung round the lord, and 
 
 Mathos strode to one, 
 "I shall have this girl for a journey-mate," he said, 
 
 "when our stay is done." 
 "My daughter she is," the old lord cried, "I have 
 
 your pledge, she is free." 
 
8o THe Retribvition 
 
 And Mathcs thrust his long jaw out, and he grunted, 
 
 "She pleases me." 
 Her brother stepped out with a heaving breast, 
 
 cheeks white, and an angry frown, 
 And Mathos lifted his sheathless sword, and hewed 
 
 the stripling down. 
 The old lord struck with his naked fist, and Mathos 
 
 fell with a groan, 
 And we yelled and scattered them right and left, 
 
 and they fled as the girl had flown. 
 And Mathos, spitting teeth and blood, snarled out like 
 
 an angry hound. 
 And three in the flurry there were slain, and the rest 
 
 were tightly bound. 
 But the tall grave girl with the fine-spun hair we 
 
 neither held nor found. 
 Then we set stout poles on the castle wall, with 
 
 cross-bars nailed or tied 
 And the white-haired lord and his shrieking serfs 
 
 on them we crucified. 
 We cast our lots for the women all, and we led them 
 
 past in sight 
 Of the men that writhed on high in a row, and we 
 
 found the wine by night. 
 We revelled high in the castle hall, and whenever 
 
 we could hear 
 A scream from the wind-swept wall without, we 
 
 answered it with a cheer. 
 We slept in a heap as each man fell, and woke when 
 
 the sun was high, 
 And the first who went to the stable called with a 
 
 scared and startled cry. 
 
XKe Retribvition 8i 
 
 The horses were hamstrung every one, save the four 
 
 of the chariot team 
 The lord had showed us with special pride as the 
 
 highest in his esteem, 
 And when we rushed to the terrace wall, we saw on 
 
 the road below 
 A scythe-wheeled war-car like to those we had terri- 
 ble cause to know, 
 And the four bays drew it, and, when we looked, they 
 
 had nearly reached the plain, 
 And there was no chance that our pursuit could near 
 
 the girl again. 
 For we saw with amaze that the driver there was the 
 
 girl, and the girl alone. 
 And she stood on the lurching chariot-bed like a 
 
 goddess upon her throne ; 
 She wore a corselet of quilted mail, and she waved an 
 
 arm on high 
 To where the knotted corpses hung against the 
 
 morning sky, 
 She lashed the horses, and whirled afar on the parched 
 
 and plantless land. 
 And at last a mere speck disappeared in the cleft of 
 
 two hills of sand. 
 We slaughtered the women with fire or steel as our 
 
 mood was, swift or slow. 
 And each man packed a burden of spoil, and we made 
 
 all haste to go. 
 It was dusk when we trod the level ground, and we 
 
 walked in the velvet glare 
 Of the orange light that was shed afar from the 
 
 blazing castle there. 
 
82 THe Retribution 
 
 As we trudged we passed on into the dark, and behind 
 
 us died the flame, 
 We steered by the stars, and just at day to the place 
 
 of the spring we came. 
 The burnt tree-trunks were charred to the earth, and 
 
 the spring was choked and gone. 
 And the soil on it trampled by horses' hoofs, and their 
 
 prints were plain in the dawn. 
 We questioned each other's wandering eyes, and each 
 
 man looked around. 
 There was nothing in sight but the cloudless sky and 
 
 the calcined, powdered ground. 
 The plain was brown and yellow and dun, and the 
 
 billowing sand-dunes rolled 
 Like ocean-waves as far as the sky, and two of them 
 
 shone like gold. 
 Then out from between them rose the sun, a red-gold 
 
 shield afar, 
 And blazoned upon its crimson disk a scythe-wheeled, 
 
 four-horsed car. 
 The girl stood in it erect and dumb, and the sun was 
 
 behind her head. 
 And she lashed the beautiful curvetting bays and 
 
 straight at our midst she sped. 
 The spear-head shone on the chariot-pole a man's 
 
 length out before, 
 And the cruel scythes on the hissing wheels in the 
 
 sand-spray flashed and tore, 
 A score of us hurled our trusty spears, but they missed 
 
 her, all the score. 
 And through the midst of our burdened line her track 
 
 was a gully of gore. 
 
THe Retribvition 83 
 
 She wheeled the car in a narrow curve and straightway 
 
 turned it back, 
 And Mathos, cool, with levelled spear, stood con- 
 fident in her track, 
 He aimed at the left-hand leader's throat, but he 
 
 missed when it yawed and reared, 
 And by the pole of the rocking car through the chest 
 
 was Mathos speared. 
 She checked the bays in their fullest course; they 
 
 pranced and the pole was free ; 
 And the scythes in her passage had mown us down, 
 
 and each wheel slaughtered three. 
 In our quivers our arrows stuck, our bow-cords slipped, 
 
 and we could but fail 
 Of every shot, for the few that sped glanced harmlessly 
 
 from her mail ; 
 The horses' wounds but spurred them on; they flew, 
 
 but none bucked or fell. 
 And she leaned back on the tightened reins and 
 
 guided them swift and well. 
 She turned the team at a spear-shot off, and lashed 
 
 them back with a cry. 
 And every man of us felt in his heart he would be 
 
 the next to die. 
 We had dropped our loads and we dropped our 
 
 shields, to all of the winds we fled. 
 And she at the scattering of us paused in the midst 
 
 of the mangled dead. 
 And when she had seen who ran most swift, on him 
 
 was the next death done. 
 And round us in circles she drove and mowed the 
 
 swiftest, one by one. 
 
84 XHe Retribvition 
 
 They had been brave, but the bravest fled Hke a tooth- 
 less, beaten cur, 
 And his heart was water within his breast when he 
 
 heard the nearing whir 
 Of the hungry scythes as they gnawed the air, and 
 
 his scared Hmbs could not flee, 
 When he knew that the swish of the hurrying blades 
 
 would reach him just at the knee. 
 There was neither crevice nor rock nor tree, no shelter, 
 
 no place to hide; 
 She drove at random east and west, and she saw each 
 
 man, and he died. 
 I saw no hope and I could not flee, I stood in the 
 
 midst and gazed: 
 I saw the last man die and I lived, and my heart with 
 
 dread was dazed. 
 Then I bethought me that I had called to Mathos to 
 
 hold his hand, 
 When he slew the boy who had spoken no word, 
 
 and I waited for her command. 
 She drove the car to me at a walk, it was all one clot 
 
 of gore. 
 And she gestured toward the river ford, and I walked 
 
 as she bade before. 
 We reached the ford in the early dusk and I knew as 
 
 though I had heard 
 The message she meant me to give to the King, al- 
 though she had uttered no word. 
 I saw our men on the farther bank, and I waded into 
 
 the stream. 
 And heard her pause in the midst of the ford, and 
 
 turned as though in a dream, 
 
THe Retribution 85 
 
 I saw her turn the chariot down at the deepest place 
 of the ford, 
 
 And urge the maddened shying colts where the 
 rapids leapt and roared ; 
 
 I saw a satisfied, terrible smile on her drawn dis- 
 cordant face. 
 
 And I saw the horses and car in a heap in the current's 
 midmost race; 
 
 I saw the horses and her go down in the light of the 
 vanished sun, 
 
 And I knew that the raid which Mathos had led was 
 utterly finished and done. 
 
VERTUMNA. 
 
 FROM mountain-ridge to seashore, all the plain 
 Had not one man as handsome as the King, 
 Mirandus, who had just begun his reign. 
 
 His boyish eyes were full of manhood's spring. 
 His look was always eager, quick, and glad, 
 His lips seemed just about to shout or sing. 
 
 Men loved him as a frank and royal lad 
 
 Ready to hunt or fight with equal joy, 
 And women loved him for a way he had. 
 
 Firm as a man, imperious as a boy, 
 In every matter he would have his way; 
 Advice he heard, but seldom would employ. 
 
 Ardent and fond, he had no wish to stay 
 
 Unmarried, but his spirit chafed with spleen 
 Against all forms and customs. He would say 
 
 Parent or guardian, nurse or go-between. 
 He would not talk with : he himself should choose 
 The maiden who would be his wife and Queen. 
 
 Nobles and burghers pondered on the news. 
 
 Their lovely, well-decked daughters, one by one. 
 Tried with the prince such wiles as women use. 
 
 86 
 
Vertvjmna 87 
 
 He liked them all, but fell in love with none, 
 And still continued seeking for a wife 
 As eagerly as when he had begun. 
 
 Vertumna lived an isolated life, 
 
 A prophetess and priestess, set apart 
 From throngs and traffic, chattering and strife. 
 
 A sorceress devoted to her art, 
 She dwelt beside a solitary shrine; 
 
 Duty and lore engrossing all her heart. 
 
 Her temple stood upon a rocky spine 
 
 That jutted from a mountain-spur, among 
 Forests of chestnut, beech, and sombre pine. 
 
 From near and far came suppliants, some young, 
 Lovers and warriors, some by problems vexed, 
 Grave councillors, controlled of face and tongue. 
 
 Responses solved the doubts of the perplexed, 
 
 The sick or wretched found her skill their aid. 
 One man she cured and comforted the next. 
 
 Wrapped in her lore, proud of the part she played. 
 Of love or loving she had never thought, 
 By choice and calling she remained a maid. 
 
 One day the King, astray while hunting, sought 
 
 Refreshment and direction as he passed. 
 The sight of him before her temple brought 
 
 So swift a change, love stormed her heart so fast, 
 That all her maiden moods and aims were gone 
 Like leaves blown seaward by a sudden blast 
 
88 Vertxxmna 
 
 Dreaming of him, she lay awake till dawn, 
 
 Hoping for love, her blushes blazed and burned; 
 Fearing contempt, she startled like a fawn. 
 
 Doubting herself, she dreaded to be spurned; 
 Of meeting him she thought with keen alarm; 
 To meet, allure, and win him still she yearned. 
 
 Then she remembered her most potent charm, 
 
 Learned from the kindly dryads of the wood, 
 Within her powers, sure and free from harm. 
 
 By exercise of sorcery she could 
 Assume at will, and, while she wished it, wear 
 Whatever semblance to her whim seemed good. 
 
 Stature and shape of features, hue of hair, 
 
 Tint of complexion, color of her eyes, 
 Could make her seem unutterably fair. 
 
 And, if she failed at first, she might devise 
 A new appearance and if that were vain 
 Vary her subtle, exquisite disguise. 
 
 Whatever guise should help her love to gain 
 
 His love, her magic spell would make her own. 
 And such, as if so born, she would remain. 
 
 She made herself a woman nobly grown, 
 Tall, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed, and yellow-haired, 
 Like princesses her childish dreams had known. 
 
 Her garb and her adornment well prepared. 
 
 Throbbing with hopes she did not dare evince. 
 Screened in her litter, to the town she fared. 
 
Vertvimna 89 
 
 Mastering the fears that made her shrink and wince, 
 Upon some pretext easy to aver, 
 
 As temple- ward, she asked to see the prince. 
 
 He gave her audience without demur ; 
 
 Was gracious; listened; granted what she asked. 
 But never seemed to see or notice her. 
 
 Her power of self-control had been so tasked 
 By her chagrin, that when at home again 
 
 And like herself, her woe could not be masked. 
 
 Her women, seeing all her soul in pain, 
 
 Not knowing why, and scared, did all they might 
 To soothe and cheer her, not for long in vain. 
 
 After a frantic, agonizing night, 
 She moped some dreadful days and nights away ; 
 Then woke one morning, purposeful and bright. 
 
 Again she wove enchantments to array 
 
 Her yearning soul in charms of dainty flesh 
 Such as few women ever can display. 
 
 A milk-white skin, miraculous and fresh, 
 A regal poise, deep hazel eyes aglow. 
 
 And burnished, bronzy tresses, mesh on mesh. 
 
 In this appearance she took care to go 
 
 Into the city when the king would ride 
 In a procession, dignified and slow. 
 
 Borne loftily, her litter open wide, 
 Among her cushions, she surveyed the throng 
 Whose admiration filled her heart with pride. 
 
9© Vertvimna 
 
 Her waiting for the pageant was not long. 
 
 The pomp wound towards the place of sacrifice. 
 Expecting tritimph, all her hopes were strong. 
 
 Yet utter failure met her proud device. 
 The king surveyed her with a steady gaze, 
 But did not pause or con her beauty twice. 
 
 Incredulous, bewildered, in a daze, 
 
 She was unconscious of her journey back. 
 For long she drooped. At length, her hopes ablaze, 
 
 Once more her spells prepared for love's attack 
 Splendors of form and features, eyes like jet, 
 A dark, warm skin and hair of shining black. 
 
 Clothed in such beauty, once again she met 
 The king, and won no more of his regard 
 Than previously. Her purpose still more set, 
 
 She showed another guise, as evil-starred, 
 Again and yet again. He took no heed. 
 His gaze was blank, impersonal, or hard. 
 
 Her oracles all promised her good speed. 
 
 And, though so often baflfled and ignored, 
 She hoped the mystic seventh would succeed. 
 
 So, when from her distress her fancies soared, 
 She made herself a girl beyond all girls 
 
 With all the grace enchantment could afford. 
 
 Small features, rose-leaf skin, and teeth like pearls. 
 
 Dimples, curved lips like coral in their hue, 
 Big violet eyes, wide brows, and golden curls. 
 
"Vertximna 91 
 
 Riding amid his splendid retinue, 
 He passed her as she stood beside the road, 
 As lovely as a rosebud starred with dew. 
 
 His dazzled train, all fascinated, glowed 
 With admiration, but he gave no sign, 
 As stolid as the horse that he bestrode. 
 
 Fearing her gods were false, or turned malign, 
 Despondent, abject, broken, dazed, and cowed, 
 She shrank away; abandoned her design. 
 
 And, when at home, despairingly allowed 
 
 The days to pass in brooding, heeded not 
 The arts and duties which had made her proud. 
 
 Her clients left, ignored or clean forgot ; 
 She wandered in the wilds from glen to glen, 
 Wide-eyed, but gazing at she knew not what. 
 
 So far she kept from all the ways of men 
 
 That seldom did a faint, thin, distant horn 
 Tell her of hunters barely in her ken. 
 
 Woe-weary, heavy-hearted, and forlorn, 
 She sought her safest, favorite retreat 
 
 Across rain-freshened hills, one fair, clear morn, 
 
 A little brook-side glade was at her feet, 
 Sun-gilded trees above, a beetling crag 
 Behind her, hollowed to a throne-like seat. 
 
 She heard the brushwood crackle, and a stag. 
 Too wearied out to run, tottered and crept 
 Into the glade on limbs he scarce could drag. 
 
92 Vertximna 
 
 His hunted eyes upon her face he kept, 
 
 Crawled to her, laid his head upon her lap, 
 As if for shelter. Then at last she wept. 
 
 Melted to pity for the beast's mishap. 
 She felt at last the soothing balm of tears ; 
 
 Her bonds of wretchedness all seemed to snap, 
 
 The moods and visions of her springtime years 
 
 Revived in her there sobbing, with her face 
 Beneath his antlers, laid against the deer's. 
 
 When, straightening up, she loosened her embrace 
 Of the stag's neck, the creature looked around. 
 Listened, and flitted from the open space. 
 
 She sat alone, a slim girl, simply gowned 
 
 In white wool homespun, her complexion pale 
 As bloodless flesh the sun and wind have browned. 
 
 Wisps of her lustreless light hair atrail 
 
 Escaped their bands by either hollow cheek ; 
 
 Her slender neck seemed pitifully frail. 
 
 Her small, cleft chin was quivering and weak; 
 
 Her thin, straight lips were colorless and shook; 
 Her faint gray eyes were dim, resigned, and meek. 
 
 She heard a splash, a footstep by the brook, 
 And instantly the king came into view 
 Alone, and saw her in her sheltered nook. 
 
 A qualm of panic burned her through and through, 
 
 She had not time to hide or flee or weave 
 A spell to make her beautiful anew. 
 
"Vertiamna 93 
 
 She sat there numb, yet could not but perceive 
 On the king's face a look that overjoyed 
 
 Her heart with hopes she dared not half believe. 
 
 Transfigured by a rapture unalloyed, 
 
 He neared her with a diffident advance. 
 "Are you some deity I should avoid," 
 
 He said, " some vision of a waking trance? 
 Some goddess or some wood-nymph of these hills? 
 If you are human, by what strange mischance 
 
 "Have we not met before? Your presence thrills 
 My mind with wonder and my heart with flame. 
 The longings of my soul your face fulfils. 
 
 "Are you divine? Unwittingly I came 
 To sacrilege, yet plead not. Slay me here. 
 
 Or are you mortal? Let me know your name." 
 
 She answered: "I am human, do not fear. 
 
 I am Vertimina, priestess, head, and ward 
 At the cliff- temple of the fruitful year." 
 
 " Strange, " he exclaimed ; "your looks do not accord 
 With anything I seem to recollect 
 
 Of that Vertumna." She replied: "My lord,- 
 
 "You saw me fairer far and better decked, 
 
 Radiant in robes and jewels, glad and sure. 
 You passed me without notice or respect." 
 
 He said: "Adornments could not but obscure 
 Yourself, for had it been yourself I saw, 
 
 I must have loved you then, beyond all cure. 
 
94 Vert\imna 
 
 " But now I see your very self you draw 
 
 All that I am to love you, I behold 
 In you my boyhood's dreams, my manhood's law." 
 
 Such was their wooing. Till they both were old 
 They saw their perfect happiness endure, 
 Glad of each other, living days of gold. 
 
THE MEASURE OF THE SWORD. 
 
 Ita omnes humiliavit ut etiam poeros ad spatas metiri 
 praeciperet et quicunque eandem mensuram excederet capite 
 plecteretur. — Chronica Sangallensis. 
 
 IN his great tent amid his camp 
 King Charlemagne, with crisped white beard, 
 Heard angry shouts and then the tramp 
 
 Of an excited mob that cheered. 
 Yelled, "Murder!" bellowed, "Seize him! bring 
 The wretch!" and "Leave it to the king!" 
 
 "Stone the false knight!" and snarled and jeered. 
 
 He stilled them, asked them why they made 
 This outcry, followed them, and found 
 
 Near the encampment, in a glade. 
 Count Fulk of Var upon the ground. 
 
 While, with a foot upon his neck. 
 
 His youthful slayer held in check 
 
 The gnashing crowd that raged around. 
 95 
 
96 TKe Measure of tKe S^vord 
 
 Riding among them, Charlemagne 
 Repressed the tumult and the cries 
 
 Of "Justice," "Judgment," "Foully slain," 
 And others. From about their prize 
 
 The slain man's furious retinue, 
 
 Aflame for their revenge, withdrew, 
 Abashed and quelled beneath his eyes. 
 
 The King then bade the youth declare 
 What was the vengeance he had sought, 
 
 And granted him a chance to swear 
 The duel had been fairly fought, 
 
 And when his story had been told 
 
 The lad stood, confident and bold. 
 While the King sat in silent thought. 
 
 Amid the tense, uneasy hush, 
 
 The dead man's henchmen breathing hard, 
 Alert and ready for a rush, 
 
 Leashed by the monarch's stern regard, 
 The King addressed his mounted peers 
 And paladins, who, grave in years. 
 
 Sat next him, grizzled, tanned, and scarred, 
 
 "My lords, how are we to decide? 
 
 Either this young man's spite and hate 
 Besmirch the dead, if he have lied, 
 
 With crimes too hideous to relate, 
 Or, if their truth should be assured. 
 For the injustice he endured 
 
 No reparation is too great," 
 
TKe Measure of tKe S'word 
 
 Said Ogier: "I believe this youth." 
 
 Said Huon of Bordeaux: "We trudged 
 Campaigns together; 't is the truth." 
 
 The Count of Flanders had not budged 
 Upon his horse. He growled: "I know- 
 That every word he says is so." 
 Then thus the Emperor adjudged: 
 
 " His death in combat at your hands 
 Was just; his sins be on his head. 
 
 His titles, vassals, serfs, and lands 
 
 Are yours by right. Let all men dread 
 
 To harm you. Now that they have heard, 
 
 Let no man contravene my word." 
 And this is what the youth had said : 
 
 II 
 
 " King Karl, the measure of the sword 
 
 He meted out to me of old 
 I have here repaid. I have restored 
 
 Back into hell the soul he sold. 
 This carrion beneath my heel 
 Should have been broken on the wheel 
 
 For deeds too monstrous to be told. 
 
 " I slew him in a fair, set fight. 
 
 I used no vantage to begin: 
 On any man of greatest might 
 
 Among his hirelings or his kin 
 I am prepared at once to prove 
 My words, if any dares to move 
 
 The test which I am sure to win. 
 
 7 
 
 97 
 
98 XHe Measvire of tKe S-word 
 
 "Yet before any shall advance 
 
 As champion, let them all weigh well 
 
 My wrongs, and how there is no chance 
 To overcome me. I shall tell, 
 
 That all who listen here m.ay be 
 
 Judges between this corpse and me. 
 Just how between us it befell. 
 
 "Only one single time before 
 
 Did Fulk and I stand face to face. 
 
 I was a child then, yet I swore 
 To have his life, but not by base 
 
 Plots, or by tricks: I did not choose 
 
 Such means as he was keen to use. 
 Which I escaped by Heaven's grace. 
 
 " A great lord, mighty in the realm. 
 With fiefs and castles, should have had 
 
 No taxing task to overwhelm 
 
 A poor, scarce friended, nameless lad. 
 
 Yet at the thought of me he quailed, 
 
 And all his treacherous efforts failed. 
 With Heaven's protection I was clad. 
 
 " While I was yet a tiny waif 
 
 Chance charity had saved and kept. 
 
 My days and nights were never safe 
 
 From murderous caitiffs, knaves that crept 
 
 About me, or who lay in wait 
 
 To poison what I drank or ate, 
 To stab or brain me as I slept. 
 
TKe Measvxre of tHe S>vord 99 
 
 " While I was yet a page, unskilled 
 
 In combat or the use of arms, 
 My very neighborhood so filled 
 
 His guilty conscience with alarms 
 That he endeavored to prevent 
 Encountering me and all it meant 
 
 By pagan spells and heathen charms. 
 
 " And when I had become a squire. 
 Though I was dogged, day after day, 
 
 By the assassins he could hire. 
 If near him my lord's forces lay, 
 
 He always managed to arrange 
 
 For his command some sudden change 
 That took him some half a world away. 
 
 " While I was with the northern host 
 
 Searching morasses for the dens 
 Of forest savages, his post 
 
 Was south among the Saracens; 
 And when my master marched to Spain, 
 This coward hastened to regain 
 
 The naked heaths and fog-wrapped fens. 
 
 *' Throughout those years, while I was set 
 On my revenge, and though I knew 
 
 That I should kill him if we met, 
 I was as much resolved to sue, 
 
 If chance permitted, at your throne. 
 
 Convict him, so regain mine own, 
 And leave his punishment to you. 
 
loo XKe Measure of tKe S'word 
 
 " Then came that glorious day whose noise 
 Yet rings, when, while our elders feared 
 
 Or blenched, ten thousand ardent boys 
 For certain death we volunteered, 
 
 With Aimeri to lead us on 
 
 To storm impregnable Narbonne, 
 
 While all the army prayed and cheered. 
 
 " And when our frenzied, hopeless dash, 
 
 To our amazement and delight. 
 All in one swift, bewildering flash 
 
 Stormed town and castle, keep and height. 
 As you were generous to accord 
 To every lad his due reward. 
 
 With others I was made a knight. 
 
 "When several of us, by your leave. 
 
 For special praise our deeds had gained, 
 
 Had been selected to receive 
 
 Presents of honor, you had deigned 
 
 To grant to me at my request 
 
 Whatever weapon pleased me best 
 Of all your treasury contained. 
 
 " And when, in all that countless hoard. 
 
 Where mounds of hilts and scabbards shone, 
 
 I recognized this self-same sword 
 As if it had been there alone, 
 
 I knew that it was God's plain will 
 
 That in my hands this blade should kill 
 This traitor, now it was my own. 
 
TKe Measure of tKe S-word 
 
 " I told my friends that I should make 
 
 No accusation or appeal 
 And each took oath he would not break 
 
 His silence, and would not reveal 
 My wrongs, till after God's design. 
 As shown me by this wondrous sign, 
 
 Was executed by my steel, 
 
 " After your armies ceased to roam, 
 As all your conquests had been won, 
 
 And every man who had a home 
 
 Turned homeward, since the wars were done, 
 
 Fulk knew that I was on his track 
 
 And schemed to weaken the attack 
 He could not any longer shun. 
 
 " So to this place I was decoyed 
 
 Alone, that he might here commence 
 
 The combat he could not avoid, 
 And win it by his skill of fence; 
 
 Or that his skulking cravens could 
 
 Surround me, sneaking from the wood. 
 While he but stood on his defence. 
 
 " But when he recognized this blade 
 Before him from its scabbard flashed, 
 
 His green tusks chattered, and he swayed, 
 And self-abandoned and abashed. 
 
 He tottered, shrouded in the gloom 
 
 Of his inevitable doom. 
 
 Before our swords had met and clashed. 
 
I02 XKe Measure of tHe S"word 
 
 " Knowing God's anger and his guilt, 
 
 The framer of the vilest plot 
 By which on earth was ever spilt 
 
 The blood of innocents, for,got 
 His craft and signals. The red spout 
 Of gore that let his vile soul out 
 
 Removed our knighthood's foulest blot. 
 
 " This is the tale of what he did 
 
 And save that I must clear my fame, 
 
 It should remain forever hid, 
 
 Not only since he soils our name, 
 
 But as this fiend was called a man. 
 
 His greed and his satanic plan 
 
 Must fill all kindly men with shame. 
 
 Ill 
 
 " Enthusiastic for the spread 
 
 Of our true faith and of your sway. 
 
 My father, young and ardent, led 
 Some hundred men-at-arms away 
 
 From Var, where our great castle frowns 
 
 On farms and forests, towers and towns, 
 Of which he would be lord some day. 
 
 " Yet he felt called upon to preach 
 
 Religion in the very nest 
 Of heathendom, to plant and teach 
 
 Our knightly ways in lands unblest. 
 His youth and power, his wealth and will 
 He dedicated to fulfil 
 
 What he conceived was God's behest. 
 
THe Meas\jire of tKe S"word 
 
 " Count Guy demurred he could not spare 
 
 From his plain duty to his fief 
 His eldest son and darling heir. 
 
 He urged his need of him, his grief 
 At his departure: yet his heart 
 Was all on fire to depart, 
 
 Full of his purpose and belief. 
 
 " Pleasure and safety he forsook; 
 
 Beyond your realm's utmost verge 
 Far north and east his way he took. 
 
 Your herald and the heathen's scourge. 
 Forests and mountain-chains he passed 
 Till on the Saxon heaths at last 
 
 His force was able to emerge. 
 
 " Besides him, many knights espoused 
 The pious hermit's hope to save 
 
 The heathen tribes, and were aroused 
 To march northeastward in a wave. 
 
 But he alone achieved success; 
 
 Others limped homeward in distress 
 Or found in savage wilds their grave. 
 
 " He built a castle on a hill. 
 
 And after months of hard-fought strife 
 Subdued the chiefs he did not kill ; 
 
 Won to our faith and way of life 
 The kinglet nearest to the place. 
 With all his family and race, 
 
 And took his daughter for his wife. 
 
 103 
 
I04 XKe Measure of tHe S-word 
 
 " She bore him seven goodly boys, 
 
 And me the eighth. He loved his lot, 
 
 Its power, honor, wealth, and joys. 
 But could not pierce or rend the knot 
 
 Of foes about him; could not stir 
 
 Towards home, or send a messenger; 
 And so lived utterly forgot. 
 
 " Meanwhile, Count B"'ulk had qualified, 
 With full observance, to succeed, 
 
 After Count Guy of Var had died, 
 
 To all his fiefs, and, though his greed 
 
 Showed later, this then was no crime. 
 
 Since he and all men at that time 
 Believed he was the heir indeed. 
 
 " And then at last your patience turned 
 To ire, since Saxony disgraced 
 
 The world with heathen rites, and spurned 
 The faith all other men embraced. 
 
 And you made ready to despatch 
 
 A mighty host, to overmatch 
 
 Their tribes and leave their land a waste. 
 
 " The heathen so aroused your wrath 
 You gave commands to execute 
 
 All captured males along their path. 
 To accept no convert or recruit. 
 
 Beheading mercilessly both 
 
 The men and boys of manly growth ; 
 And, that there should be no dispute 
 
TKe Measure of tKe S^vvord 105 
 
 " Who should be slain and who be spared, 
 You gave a sword-blade as a guide, 
 
 By which, point down, hilt up, and bared, 
 All doubtful cases should be tried, 
 
 And those whose heads should come below 
 
 The cross-guard, set and measured so. 
 Should be preserved, and none beside. 
 
 " The very sword which you bestowed. 
 To which you bade your men align 
 
 Their prisoners along their road 
 
 Has now, by heaven's plain design. 
 
 Become my weapon, by your gift. 
 
 Before your eyes you see me lift 
 This red avenger, which is mine. 
 
 IV 
 
 " It pleased your council to select 
 
 That Ganelon for chief command. 
 Who then had all the world's respect, 
 
 And with him went, as his right hand. 
 Count Fulk of Var, my uncle, then 
 One of the Empire's richest men 
 
 And leader of a mighty band. 
 
 " They poured through Saxony, a flood. 
 
 An inundation swift and vast, 
 Drowning the land in fire and blood, 
 
 And leaving nothing where they passed ; 
 They came to where my father dwelt 
 And he exulted, for he felt 
 
 That his reward was near at last. 
 
io6 XHe Measure of tKe Svrord 
 
 " As if for pastime or to hunt, 
 
 Without a helmet and unarmed, 
 To meet their close-ranked serried front 
 
 My father cantered, unalarmed, 
 Not dreaming that their grim approach 
 Could, even by mischance, encroach 
 
 On his domains, or he be harmed. 
 
 " Scattered behind, light-horsed and few, 
 Without a breast-plate, bow, or spear. 
 
 His easy-going retinue 
 
 Followed without a thought of fear. 
 
 And when they saw their master swing 
 
 His cap, and heard him shout and sing, 
 They waved their caps and gave a cheer. 
 
 " He saw the archers in the van; 
 
 He saw Var's haughty banner float 
 Above them — little ripples ran 
 
 Across it. Then on every coat — 
 He did not need to scan it twice — 
 He saw displayed his own device ; 
 
 Var's house-call carolled from his throat. 
 
 " My father bade his men rejoice. 
 
 Count Fulk of Var, upon the flank 
 Of his battalion, knew the voice, 
 
 The call; his crumbling heart-strings shrank. 
 That instant, as he recognized 
 His brother's face, he realized 
 
 His loss of power, wealth, and rank. 
 
THe Meas\ire of tKe Sword 107 
 
 " He did not hesitate or pause: 
 
 Quick as a lightning-flash he chose 
 
 To give himself to Satan's claws. 
 
 He yelled out: 'Ambush! These are foes. 
 
 Volley ! ' and, as the order rang, 
 
 A thousand bow-strings gave one twang; 
 A cloud of arrows, hurtling, rose. 
 
 " My father fell. Without remorse 
 His fiendish-minded brother rushed 
 
 Upon the corpse his prancing horse 
 Until the upturned face was crushed. 
 
 From off his breast the archers tore 
 
 The emblazoned surcoat that he wore 
 
 And thus the plainest proofs were hushed. 
 
 *' Some of my father's men survived, 
 All wounded, all in tears and crazed 
 
 From panic ; and with these arrived — 
 While all the castle force was dazed — 
 
 A wash of wolfish men, that put 
 
 The helpless gate-guard under foot. 
 Before the drawbridge could be raised. 
 
 " The sun was blurred, behind the smoke 
 Of villages and farms transformed 
 
 To embers. All the doors they broke. 
 At the first rush the keep they stormed. 
 
 My mother with her sons was found, 
 
 And all of us were seized and bound. 
 About us jeering swordsmen swarmed. 
 
io8 XHe Measure of tKe S'word 
 
 " My mother, dignified and tall, 
 
 Amid their taunting, blood-stained glee, 
 
 Kept up her courage through it all, 
 Still confident, if she could see 
 
 And talk with any knight or lord. 
 
 He would to us at once accord 
 Protection, and would set us free. 
 
 " Then she beheld this mighty count, 
 The blackest-hearted wretch on earth, 
 
 Enter the courtyard, and dismount. 
 She told our lineage and birth. 
 
 He saw, if she should win belief. 
 
 By truthfulness and touching grief, 
 How much his titles would be worth, 
 
 " So, when this fair pathetic wraith 
 Declared us Franks and nobly born, 
 
 Baptized and of the holy faith. 
 By misadventure made forlorn, 
 
 Since he was with the lords to flout 
 
 Her pleading words, and raise a shout 
 Of ' Pretext, ' she was met with scorn. 
 
 " Famished and thirsty, galled with chains. 
 We passed, inside a crowded sty, 
 
 A night of miseries and pains. 
 
 Then we were led, we knew not why, 
 
 Down to the castle's tilting-field. 
 
 And there we watched and saw revealed 
 The doom that we were threatened by. 
 
T"Ke Measure of tHe Svrord 
 
 " I saw the stern commander stand 
 
 Where round a slab the grass was mown, 
 
 This very sword-hilt in his hand. 
 He set the point upon the stone. 
 
 Then from his mother's arms, fast-clenched 
 
 About her child, a boy was wrenched, 
 And stood beside the blade alone. 
 
 " I saw Lord Fulk, with others, lean; 
 
 I saw the four bluff swordsmen bend 
 To eye the space that came between 
 
 His ringlets and the cross-guard's end. 
 And, when again his mother clasped 
 Her boy, she laughed and sobbed and gasped, 
 
 And why I did not comprehend. 
 
 " One after one the children filed 
 Up to the sword and were let pass. 
 
 And then a somewhat taller child 
 
 Reached to the inwrought steel and brass. 
 
 I saw the burly swordsmen seize 
 
 The lad, and force him to his knees. 
 His head rolled severed on the grass. 
 
 •' A score, a hundred lads were held 
 Beside the sword, and all were served 
 
 Alike. The swordsmen toiled and yelled, 
 
 The red blades flashed, and never swerved. 
 
 The corpses lay about pell-mell. 
 
 The heads were kicked from where they fell. 
 Only the babies were preserved. 
 
 109 
 
XKe Measvire of tKe S^word 
 
 " I staggered at my mother's knee, 
 Too weak, too innocent, and young, 
 
 For what I had been forced to see. 
 I smelt, and tasted on my tongue. 
 
 The steam of blood. 1 saw the spouts 
 
 Of gore along the swords in gouts; 
 The noise of shrieks about us hung. 
 
 " But when towards us the butchers moved. 
 The Count of Flanders interposed : 
 
 'This woman's tale is not disproved, 
 Its verity may be disclosed.' 
 
 He said: 'I hold that we should wait 
 
 Until we can investigate. 
 The truth cannot be changed or glozed.' 
 
 " But Fulk of Var then raised a cry, 
 With furious rage and evil zest. 
 
 That every one of us should die; 
 We were not worthy of the test. 
 
 But Ganelon stood fast and scowled; 
 
 Ignored them both, and only growled: 
 * Let them measured be with the rest.' 
 
 " Seeing the men-at-arms advance, 
 My brother whispered in my ear: 
 
 * Be brave. You have at least a chance. 
 Cling to your life, keep up your cheer. 
 
 Avenge us. After you have hurled 
 
 This hound to earth, tell all the world 
 His crimes, that all mankind may hear.' 
 
THe Measure of tHe S-word 
 
 " He topped the great sword, hilt and all, 
 And knelt himself, not faint or weak. 
 
 Our helpless mother saw him fall. 
 As if she called on God to wreak 
 
 His vengeance on this heartless wretch, 
 
 The very heaven seemed to stretch 
 Before the frenzy of her shriek. 
 
 " But though so terribly she screamed 
 
 At each inexorable stroke, 
 She looked at first as though she dreamed. 
 
 Then suddenly her mind awoke 
 To her imutterable loss. 
 She fell, stretched out as on a cross, 
 
 And never moved again or spoke. 
 
 " Then, of all earthly hope bereft, 
 Cold, dizzy, shuddering, and blind 
 
 With terror, I alone was left, 
 
 A strong voice bade the men unbind 
 
 My hands, and from behind my head 
 
 The youthful Count of Flanders said, 
 His voice encouraging and kind : 
 
 " ' My child, endeavor to be strong. 
 
 Go like a knight, since go you must. 
 Even the worst will not be long. 
 
 I shall make sure the test is just. 
 And this much comfort I can give, 
 I shall protect you if you live. 
 
 You have one friend whom you can trust.* 
 
 Ill 
 
112 THe Measure of tHe S"word 
 
 " Though at his words I felt resolved, 
 Yet when Count Fulk, my uncle, leaned 
 
 To watch me, all my brain revolved. 
 Above the harvest he had gleaned, 
 
 Upon me such a gaze he fixed, 
 
 Where eagerness and relish mixed 
 As on the visage of a fiend. 
 
 " They thrust me forward then to death, 
 Tense, numb with horror and despair, 
 
 I stood, I faced him. In one breath 
 I saw his gloating, wolfish glare 
 
 Change into doubt, saw dazed surprise, 
 
 Chagrin, and panic in his eyes — 
 
 And felt this guard just graze my hair." 
 
DONE FOR. 
 
 THE taste of failure I had never known, 
 Success had claimed and marked me for its 
 own, 
 Boy- feats more than I could recall or tell 
 I learnt at once and executed well. 
 I had been liked by all both young and old, 
 And grew up healthy, natural, and bold. 
 Then, with my spurs, I won myself a name, 
 And in a year or two no narrow fame. 
 All eyes were turned to me in field or town 
 From pure good-will not less than my renown. 
 I found a welcome from light-hearted blades, 
 And had soft looks and words from wives and maids. 
 Nothing I did came slowly or came hard; 
 None showed for me dislike or disregard; 
 Court-life and war and tourney-field and rest, 
 I liked them all, and knew not which was best. 
 Then I met her, and all my life was changed. 
 At court, although my answered eyes had ranged 
 Along the ladies' seats, and met bright smiles, 
 Her look was fixed as though she gazed for miles 
 Beyond my shoulders, and beheld, past me, 
 Some sight she would be pleasured not to see. 
 The fierce delight of battle paled and dimmed. 
 What profit now to meet some mighty limbed, 
 
 8 "3 
 
114 Done For 
 
 Loud-named helm-hewer, and leave him stretched and 
 
 stark ; 
 I knew that when she heard she would not mark, 
 But would sit with her courteous calm grace, 
 Without expression in her pose or face. 
 And in a joust or tourney, if some stroke 
 Or some dexterity of mine awoke 
 From benches and from dais round on round 
 Of warm applause, when at the welcome sound 
 I caught a free breath in the weapon-play. 
 And cast a single longing glance her way, 
 My heart would stop and my lungs burst with 
 
 rage 
 To see her chatting with some dapper page, 
 Plying her lace fan evenly and slow. 
 Not even watching wounds and death below. 
 Yet I still hoped my prowess or blind chance 
 Might win her love or make some slight advance. 
 Though she was always chilly, curt, and rude. 
 Despair I would not, since I had not sued. 
 And, while in doubt, the dream might still be nursed 
 That the last outcome would not be the worst. 
 Then came the crisis in my kin's affairs; 
 Freshets of hopes alternate with despairs; 
 Hindrances to our wealth, shocks to our fame — 
 Gusts of reports surcharged with loss and shame. 
 Vague rimiors, open mutterings, later yet 
 Plain charges, challenge made and challenge met. 
 And I was chosen by our clan and side 
 Chief champion, and accepted in glad pride. 
 Up to this time, though I had yearned in vain. 
 And being near her had but brought me pain, 
 
Done For 115 
 
 All her rebuffs and cumulative scorns 
 
 Had spurred me on like flagellating thorns. 
 
 To brood upon how all my plans befell 
 
 Was irritant but stimulant as well ; 
 
 Looking ahead, I knew she might reject 
 
 My suit outright, but I did not suspect 
 
 Despondence or dejection's grip might seize 
 
 My coiled volitions, come what chance might please. 
 
 The more insuperable the prospect seemed, 
 
 The more my sinews strung, my tense brain schemed 
 
 To conquer chances, to subdue her hate, 
 
 To win her love and person soon or late. 
 
 And now I felt keen joy that I could trust 
 
 My eye and hand to win this much discussed 
 
 Wager of battle. Dearly I loved strife — 
 
 Man set to man for honor or for life. 
 
 Here both were risked; much honor was to 
 
 win. 
 Wealth, power, reputation for my kin; 
 Leadership with them while my prime endured 
 And chieftaincy in age would be secured, 
 And all these hung upon my sword and spear. 
 And so seemed easily in reach and near. 
 And, such is love's fatuity, I weened 
 That, if, victorious and well-demeaned, 
 I came out from this joust, I had some chance, 
 If at the nick I made a bold advance. 
 To win consent from her, or at the least 
 Some sign of yielding ; and my hopes increased. 
 For till the judgment ends all hopes and fears, 
 Through dreads and doubts, through centuries and 
 
 years, 
 
ii6 Done For 
 
 Lovers will plan, by service or by deed — 
 
 Such as would gain a well-disposed maid's heed, 
 
 For one who plead transfigured, flushed, and scarred — 
 
 To win from unrelenting dames regard. 
 
 By the preceding day I had well planned 
 
 Our strategy, and had advised my band. 
 
 Nothing remained till dawn to do or say; 
 
 Hale, shrived, and houselled on my bed I lay. 
 
 There came to me returning thoughts of her, 
 
 Forgotten partly in our warlike stir. 
 
 I rose, and in the sidelong moonlight there 
 
 Kneeled on the rushes, and in brief hot prayer 
 
 Besought our Lady and the saints to give 
 
 A sign, not that 1 should prevail and live — 
 
 Of both these I felt certain — but if aught 
 
 That I could do would touch her heart or thought. 
 
 When afterward I laid me down and slept. 
 
 Into my ken a vague, dim vision crept. 
 
 It seemed that I was smaller than I am. 
 
 My lids drooped heavily; my hot eyes swam; 
 
 My breathing made no sound, my tongue was dumb; 
 
 I could not move my limbs, I was all numb. 
 
 With a strange sense of helplessness and fright 
 
 Like a girl-child lost and alone at night. 
 
 I felt as I imagined one might feel 
 
 Trampled by hoofs, battered and pierced by steel, 
 
 Who all night in the wind and frost has lain, 
 
 Crushed yet alive under a heap of slain. 
 
 I lay cramped, crumpled, weaponless within 
 
 The circling arms of some one of my kin 
 
 Who bore me, not as one would strain below 
 
 Some great-boned warrior, pantingly and slow. 
 
Done For 117 
 
 But as one bears a weightless infant, caught 
 
 Against his breast, without remark or thought. 
 
 I seemed borne down with an enormous weight 
 
 And struggHng to remember, now too late, 
 
 Things best forgotten, as though I had passed 
 
 Through some misfortune limitlessly vast. 
 
 Nothing was clear in this strange dream except 
 
 The hateful, certain consciousness — that kept, 
 
 I knew not how, coiled round me like a snake, 
 
 Like nothing I had ever known awake — 
 
 That I was broken, crippled, spoiled, and maimed. 
 
 My body ruined, yet my soul unshamed. 
 
 Then like a torch-flash through my dreaming flared 
 
 The half thought that I had essayed and dared 
 
 Some needless danger for my lady ; fought 
 
 Against vast odds ; had acted as I ought, 
 
 And had been conquered by some chance malign. 
 
 Wrecked and disfeatured by no fault of mine 
 
 But in her service, and my heart ebbed out 
 
 At the unconquerable pressing doubt, 
 
 Would she still spurn me as when her fit mate. 
 
 Or pity somewhat now my wretched state. 
 
 All this passed in a breath ; my bearer strode 
 
 With his unnoticed, barely sentient load, 
 
 Down a long cloistered corridor-like way. 
 
 Pillared at intervals, as light as day. 
 
 With a clerestory pierced with windows square. 
 
 Opened unlatticed to the outer air, 
 
 And set above my head some feet, as though 
 
 A walk was there whence one might gaze below. 
 
 And moving as we moved through them we saw 
 
 My lady's face, pure, fair, without a flaw, 
 
ii8 Done For 
 
 Gazing straight forward, quiet and unvexed, 
 
 From each space reappearing in the next, 
 
 As if she paced for pastime in her pride, 
 
 And knew or heeded not mjr pain outside. 
 
 My bearer turned, some steps he reached and climbed. 
 
 And there, as if our movements had been timed. 
 
 At a door, arras-hung, framed in carved wood. 
 
 Upon my left my lovely lady stood, 
 
 Her hand upon the hangings, on her head 
 
 A circlet of cut jewels flaming red. 
 
 Her curled lips redder, her cheeks pale and cool. 
 
 Her eyes deep-colored like a woodland pool, 
 
 Her garments flowing, graceful fold on fold, 
 
 But all her seeming not more fair than cold. 
 
 And when she saw me perfectly and clear, 
 
 She laughed out with a ringing, merry sneer. 
 
 My heart shut at the sound ; my dreaming broke ; 
 
 In a cold agony of dread I woke, 
 
 And in the young light of the growing morn 
 
 I lay, eyes shut, heart quaking and forlorn. 
 
 Unthinking and by folly too deceived, 
 
 In my fierce panic then I quite believed 
 
 This was the sign for which I just had prayed, 
 
 And, so believing, was the more afraid; 
 
 But now for years I have known in my heart 
 
 That it was sorcery or wicked art. 
 
 Witchcraft I had discredited, and charms; 
 
 Magic to me had never caused alarms; 
 
 But now I felt its might ; without a spell, 
 
 No change could come such as to me befell. 
 
 All of the current of my nature's stream 
 
 Was altered by that momentary dream. 
 
Done For 119 
 
 Victor in all my fights, strong to prevail, 
 
 I felt my hams cringe and my courage quail, 
 
 My pride snuffed out, and my ambition bowed 
 
 As if I were a laggard, quelled and cowed 
 
 By the remembrance of recalls, retreats, 
 
 Disasters, blunders, sneakings, and defeats. 
 
 That transient vision made my force as lame 
 
 As a long past of cowardice and shame. 
 
 The thought of wounds had been as strange to me 
 
 As a real wound or overthrow could be. 
 
 And now anticipations crammed my head 
 
 Of agony and terror, pain and dread. 
 
 My very arms brought fright to me, not pride, 
 
 My impulse was to crawl away and hide. 
 
 I bungled our formation ; lost my head ; 
 
 Misplaced the watch-words ; fought with arms like lead ; 
 
 Went down before a boy opponent's spear. 
 
 And all beholders said I blenched for fear. 
 
 We lost the gage, I was not killed outright. 
 
 Though I had many wounds ; and in the night 
 
 My kin conveyed my senseless carcase off, 
 
 And hid me well from injury or scoff. 
 
 When cured and whole, my life was done, and I 
 
 Fled here ; took orders ; and here wait to die. 
 
MARCABRUN. 
 
 A la fontana del vergier, 
 
 On r erb es vertz jostal gravier. 
 
 Marcabrun. 
 
 I found her by the fountain where 
 The castle garden slopes aside. 
 The spring birds' songs lit all the air, 
 And that slim brook the grasses hide 
 Droned in the shadows; many flowers 
 Made all the borders glad and fair. 
 
 After so many lonely hours 
 I saw her kneeling there. 
 
 Through endless leagues of angry sea 
 
 And wet gray skies we won the shore 
 At dawn; the sunrise seemed to be 
 
 A dawn in heaven, with the roar 
 Still in our ears of strange, wild waters, 
 
 With hands outworn by sword and oar. 
 Weary of watchings and of slaughters 
 
 We wandered now no more. 
 
 With the soft air I loved so well 
 Fresh in my nostrils, still it seemed 
 
 Too sweet to be; I could not tell 
 Whether I lived or if I dreamed 
 
 I20 
 
Marcabnan 121 
 
 To wake with Moslem war-cries ringing 
 Around our starved camp, yell on yell, 
 
 In the hot, desert twilight, singing 
 The songs of fiends of hell. 
 
 Across the orchard's gentle slope 
 
 She did not look as I drew near, 
 As in my voice there was no hope. 
 
 Speaking her name, she did not hear; 
 Then I perceived that she was praying. 
 
 I stood irresolute, for fear 
 Lest I might hear if she were saying 
 
 Words only for God's ear. 
 
 "Dear God, it was at your behest," 
 
 She said, and tears were in her voice, 
 "That brave King Louis with his best 
 
 Took the one love that was my choice 
 
 On his crusade to strive and battle 
 For your son's tomb, a dreadful quest. 
 
 Each night I hear his hoarse death-rattle 
 In dreams of wild unrest. 
 
 "Alas, two long years have gone past 
 
 Since I saw him, nor have I heard. 
 Was my last sight of him the last 
 
 In very deed? My eyes are blurred 
 With tears. I pray to keep him living, 
 
 Dear Lord, each day; my dreams are stirred 
 Still with no message of your giving 
 
 No comfort, not one word. 
 
122 Marcabrxin 
 
 "Dear God, his love would have been mine, 
 
 Had he not gone into the East; 
 The voice that called him was divine, 
 
 Oh, let it answer me, at least. 
 
 Give me some hope, give me some token 
 He is alive across the brine. 
 
 If no assurance may be spoken 
 Give me at least some sign." 
 
 My heart within my bosom sank. 
 
 Turned all at once from flame to lead ; 
 The blood in all my body shrank, 
 
 The heavens boomed above my head ; 
 The earth beneath my feet seemed sinking; 
 
 My doom in blazing words outspread, 
 Seemed written on the sky, and blinking, 
 
 And gasping, thus I said: 
 
 "My lady, all your fears are vain. 
 
 Charles of Loupey is living now ; 
 As we cast anchor, with his train 
 
 I saw him at his galley's prow. 
 
 His name is crowned with all men's praises; 
 His sword has mown his foes like grain ; 
 
 Blest with high honor, such as raises 
 Few, he comes home again." 
 
 My darling started, and her face, 
 
 As if she suddenly awoke. 
 Changed, but she moved not from her place 
 
 Till I had ceased ; a soft smile broke 
 
Marcabrxin 
 
 Forth in her eyes, like opening flowers, 
 Through me it sent a lightning stroke ; 
 
 Her tears fell gently, like spring showers ; 
 Then she stood up and spoke. 
 
 No other face so fair might be, 
 
 No angel's voice could tell her charms. 
 
 "I will chide God no more," said she. 
 And opened out to me her arms, 
 "God is good, he has made me know it, 
 
 Since him I prayed so long to see 
 My own true love, my loyal poet, 
 
 God has brought back to me." 
 
 123 
 
CERTAINTY. 
 
 THE huge rough Duke, all ruddy and fresh-tanned 
 With the last war, lolled in the winter sun 
 Upon his bear-skins and rich furs in piles. 
 Southward the day was perfect on the land, 
 Crisp zephyrs all around the castle spun, 
 The sky seemed made of smiles. 
 
 The slim fair King, close-knit and nervous-thewed, 
 Sat by him on the terrace, in his chair, 
 
 His sword beneath his lute across his knees. 
 His eyes saw more of everything he viewed, 
 Although he quaffed less deeply of the air; 
 Felt less the bracing breeze. 
 
 "A poet do you call this pensioner?" 
 
 ScofEed the big Duke, a laugh deep in his beard, 
 "Poet, and therefore pensioner of yours! 
 If he be so, his songs make little stir. 
 
 Who sings them ? Is he loved for them or feared 
 Among your troubadours?" 
 
 "Nay," quoth the King, "a pensioner he is, 
 Being my loyal subject from the first. 
 A poet is he, perfect in his art. 
 If you have never known a song as his. 
 Believe me when I say his very worst 
 Have moved my inmost heart." 
 
 124 
 
Certainty- 125 
 
 "Give me a sign of each," still urged the Duke, 
 "His utter loyalty for no rewards; 
 His poet's soul, one not to be denied." 
 And the King knit his brows, half in rebuke, 
 Half at his memories of rebel lords, 
 And slowly he replied: 
 
 " He was the first I spoke to when my wrong 
 Was at its greatest. And he took my side — 
 A ragged wanderer, altered and alone — 
 And he it was who made the battle-song 
 We sang, when in my traitor uncle's pride 
 We hurled him from the throne. 
 
 "And, when I asked him how he knew his King, 
 He answered as a poet only might, 
 
 His quick eyes lit with an undoubted gleam : 
 ' I knew you without proof of anything. 
 I felt conviction in me at first sight, 
 As vivid as a dream,' " 
 
THE EMPEROR. 
 
 TOWARD evening of a perfect afternoon, 
 The morrow of a gorgeous festival, 
 An emperor was pacing by the sea. 
 Like sluggish wreaths of lapsing incense-smoke 
 Dissolving down a stilled, deserted aisle 
 There eddied in the cloisters of his soul 
 Subsiding reminiscences of pomp. 
 Emotions, adulation, and resolves. 
 Save for his youngest son, a child at play, 
 Between the pines and waves he stood alone. 
 The round, red sun above the sailless sea 
 Glowed like a lamp before a solemn shrine ; 
 The firmament was quiet as a dome 
 Above the hush of a cathedral nave ; 
 The monarch felt the fountains of his heart 
 Well up within, and overflow with prayer. 
 His mind traversed his tense, terrific past; 
 Saw the triumphant present he had won ; 
 Beheld the splendid prospect far before. 
 And yearned above the fabric he had made. 
 "O God," he cried, "my guardian and my hope, 
 Look down upon the work that I have wrought, 
 A broad-based empire, founded full and firm, 
 Built for thy glory in the fear of thee, 
 Bastioned about the provinces in tiers, 
 And dominated by a dynasty 
 126 
 
XKe Emperor 127 
 
 Far-rooted, virile, fashioned to endure. 
 Bless it and have it in thy holy keep, 
 And look upon it still benignantly 
 Through endless generations yet to be." 
 
 God heard him from his high and awful throne 
 
 Beside the ocean of eternity. 
 
 He eyed the countless ripples of the years 
 
 Wrinkling the shifting and unresting slopes ; 
 
 The huddled wavelets of the centuries 
 
 That seamed the periods along their flanks; 
 
 The serried billows of the ages, ridged 
 
 And huge in their implacable advance, 
 
 Innumerable to their vanishing 
 
 Against the infinite horizon's verge. 
 
 He felt the unrelenting wind of fate, 
 
 Unveering, sempiternal, and the same. 
 
 Push on, undeviating and serene, 
 
 Propelling all before it and below. 
 
 Afar across its booming resonance 
 
 He heard heave and subside in mighty breaths 
 
 The respiration of the tides of time 
 
 Undreaming in their multitudinous sleep. 
 
 The whisper of the cycles as they waked 
 
 Diffused a drone throughout the firmament. 
 
 He heard void hollows of resurgent time 
 
 Obscurely moaning from their darkened depths 
 
 Between the threatening and majestic dunes 
 
 Of bulged, recurrent seons weltering on. 
 
 Amid the tumult, he descried the noise 
 
 Of overdriven eras toppling down, 
 
 Smashing and sliding into ravening spray; 
 
128 THe E-mperor 
 
 The culminating crash and rending roar 
 From the disdainful and tumultuous crests 
 Of maddened epochs bursting into foam. 
 The present, poised and arching in its leap, 
 Crumbled in long battalions, writhed and frayed, 
 Of hissing, live, and ever-climbing surf 
 That flogged the altering, unsubstantial shore. 
 Watching its lapping tongues of swishing spume, 
 God looked upon the Emperor and smiled. 
 
 The eager child embraced his father's knees, 
 And shouted: "Father, look what I have made! 
 I made it all myself and all for you. 
 Let us come here and see it every day." 
 
 The Emperor regarded walls and forts. 
 Redans and scarps heaped up of oozing sand. 
 The rising wind sang strongly toward the coast ; 
 A lathering gush of effervescing froth 
 Licked toward his feet; and he looked down and 
 smiled. 
 
THE GHOULA. 
 
 BECAUSE my mate did not return, 
 And since my little ones must eat, 
 I sallied forth alone to learn. 
 
 Myself, to win my children meat. 
 
 Whatever man upon my way, 
 
 Hunter or villager robust, 
 I met alone and marked for prey, 
 
 My smile would lull his first distrust ; 
 
 My beauty touched his heart at length, 
 And in my form he could not guess 
 
 A hint of that titanic strength 
 Which even female ghouls possess. 
 
 At dusk, at sundawn, or at noon 
 I lured him from ravine or road 
 
 To where the ruins are. And soon 
 We feasted in our dim abode. 
 
 Men's flesh is best. If none came near, 
 I caught some bullock, sheep, or goat. 
 
 Or, waiting at a pool the deer. 
 Leapt like a panther at its throat. 
 129 
 
13° TKe GHoula 
 
 Three days, and to my younglings' cries 
 I brought but pilfered scraps of food. 
 
 I saw the famine in their eyes 
 And hunted in no gentle mood. 
 
 Next day above the desert plain 
 
 Our Persian sky arched blue and clear. 
 
 From the lookout where I had lain 
 I saw a figure drawing near; 
 
 An Englishman who strayed alone, 
 Careless of nomads, ghouls, or spells, 
 
 To beat the waste of sand and stone 
 For hares or bustards or gazelles. 
 
 He spoke our homely Persian tongue ; 
 
 I found him nowise hard to fool ; 
 And yet, he was so tall and young, 
 
 I wished that he had been a ghoul. 
 
 My hunting had engrossed my mind. 
 Since of my mate I was bereft. 
 
 Now, staring through the months behind, 
 I felt how lonely I was left. 
 
 . My starved mouth watered at the view 
 
 Of pink cheeks, tender, plump, and nigh. 
 And yet it seemed a pity too; 
 He looked too comely far to die. 
 
 As. by my side he idly paced. 
 
 Before the ruins we had neared, 
 
 Between two boulders on the waste. 
 Some distance off, a doe appeared. 
 
THe GKoxila 131 
 
 He raised his rifle and took aim. 
 
 Then, as I watched to see her spring, 
 He stopped and said: "It seems a shame 
 
 "To kill the pretty, dainty thing." 
 
 It startled me to find this youth, 
 
 So heedless, hale, and lithe of limb, 
 Felt for his game the selfsame ruth 
 
 Which I had felt at sight of him. 
 
 She stood and stared before she ran. 
 
 "What good to us that she should roam," 
 I said: "Best shoot her while you can. 
 
 We have no meat at all at home." 
 
 His bullet missed. The creature fled. 
 
 He flushed, surprised, chagrined, and vexed. 
 Then, smiling cheerily, he said: 
 
 "I may do better with the next. 
 
 "That lean doe was not worth regret, 
 You may get meat some other way." 
 
 I answered, with my purpose set, 
 "Indeed, I rather think I may." 
 
 How cool the shadowed archway smelt, 
 
 Pleasant and softly lit inside! 
 His arm went round my waist. I felt 
 
 My young would not have long to bide. 
 
132 XKe GKovila 
 
 They cowered huddling in our lair. 
 
 Their pangs I knew they would endure 
 In silence, rather than to scare 
 
 Quarry of which I was not sure. 
 
 Inebriated with my charms, 
 
 He held me closely, unaware 
 That he was helpless in my arms 
 
 As is a rabbit in a snare. 
 
 Time after time our lips had met; 
 
 His curly head to mine I drew, 
 A kiss upon his throat I set — 
 
 And bit the windpipe through and through. 
 
 Firm flesh to eat, clean blood to drink. 
 Fitted to make my dear ones thrive. 
 
 And yet, since then, I often think — 
 He was so handsome when alive. 
 
 Who knows, but for my darlings' need 
 I might have softened, let him go ? 
 
 I find it in my heart indeed 
 
 To wish that he had shot the doe. 
 
SEP IB 1908