Poems by the Way

Chapter 45 : Goldilocks And Goldilocks
It was Goldilocks woke up in the morn At the first of the shearing of the corn. There stood his mother on the hearth And of new-leased wheat was little dearth. There stood his sisters by the quern, For the high-noon cakes they needs must earn. "O tell me Goldilocks my son, Why hast thou colored raiment on?" "Why should I wear the hodden gray When I am light of heart to-day?" "O tell us, brother, why ye wear In reaping-tide the scarlet gear? Why hangeth the sharp sword at thy side When through the land 'tis the hook goes wide?" "Gay-clad am I that men may know The freeman's son where'er I go. The grinded sword at side I bear Lest I the dastard's word should hear." "O tell me Goldilocks my son, Of whither away thou wilt be gone?" "The morn is fair and the... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 44 : Hafbur And Signy
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. King Hafbur & King Siward They needs must stir up strife, All about the sweetling Signy Who was so fair a wife. O wilt thou win me then, or as fair a maid as I be? It was the King's son Hafbur Woke up amid the night, And 'gan to tell of a wondrous dream In swift words nowise light. "Me-dreamed I was in Heaven Amid that fair abode, And my true-love lay upon mine arm And we fell from cloud to cloud." As there they sat, the dames and maids, Of his words they took no keep, Only his mother well-beloved Heeded his dreamful sleep. "Go get thee gone to the mountain, And make no long delay; To the elve's eldest daughter For thy dream's areding pray." So the King's son, even Hafbur, Took his sword in his left hand,... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 43 : Knight Aagen And Maiden Else
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. It was the fair knight Aagen To an isle he went his way, And plighted troth to Else, Who was so fair a may. He plighted troth to Else All with the ruddy gold, But or ere that day's moon came again Low he lay in the black, black mold. It was the maiden Else, She was fulfilled of woe When she heard how the fair knight Aagen In the black mold lay alow. Uprose the fair knight Aagen, Coffin on back took he, And he's away to her bower, Sore hard as the work might be. With that same chest on door he smote, For the lack of flesh and skin; "O hearken, maiden Else, And let thy true-love in!" Then answered maiden Else, "Never open I my door, But and if thou namest Jesu's name As thou hadst might before." "O hea... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 42 : Agnes And The Hill-Man
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. Agnes went through the meadows a-weeping, Fowl are a-singing. There stood the hill-man heed thereof keeping. Agnes, fair Agnes! "Come to the hill, fair Agnes, with me, The reddest of gold will I give unto thee!" Twice went Agnes the hill round about, Then wended within, left the fair world without. In the hillside bode Agnes, three years thrice told o'er, For the green earth sithence fell she longing full sore. There she sat, and lullaby sang in her singing, And she heard how the bells of England were ringing. Agnes before her true-love did stand: "May I wend to the church of the English Land?" "To England's Church well mayst thou be gone, So that no hand thou lay the red gold upon. "So that when thou art come the churchyard anear Thou cast not abr... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 41 : The Son's Sorrow
FROM THE ICELANDIC. The King has asked of his son so good, "Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood? O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughest not; All thy good game is clean forgot." "Sit thou beside me, father dear, And the tale of my sorrow shalt thou hear. Thou sendedst me unto a far-off land, And gavest me into a good Earl's hand. Now had this good Earl daughters seven, The fairest of maidens under heaven. One brought me my meat when I should dine, One cut and sewed my raiment fine. One washed and combed my yellow hair, And one I fell to loving there. Befell it on so fair a day, We minded us to sport and play. Down in a dale my horse bound I, Bound on my saddle speedily. Bright red she was as the flickering flame... (From : Marxists.org.)

From The Upland To The Sea
Shall we wake one morn of spring, Glad at heart of everything, Yet pensive with the thought of eve? Then the white house shall we leave, Pass the wind-flowers and the bays, Through the garth, and go our ways, Wandering down among the meads Till our very joyance needs Rest at last; till we shall come To that Sun-god's lonely home, Lonely on the hill-side gray, Whence the sheep have gone away; Lonely till the feast-time is, When with prayer and praise of bliss, Thither comes the country side. There awhile shall we abide, Sitting low down in the porch By that image with the torch: Thy one white hand laid upon The black pillar that was won From the far-off Indian mine; And my hand nigh touching thine, But not touching; and thy gown Fair with sp... (From : Marxists.org.)

Love Fulfilled
Hast thou longed through weary days For the sight of one loved face? Mast thou cried aloud for rest, Mid the pain of sundering hours; Cried aloud for sleep and death, Since the sweet unhoped for best Was a shadow and a breath? O, long now, for no fear lowers O'er these faint feet-kissing flowers. O, rest now; and yet in sleep All thy longing shalt thou keep. Thou shalt rest and have no fear Of a dull awaking near, Of a life for ever blind, Uncontent and waste and wide. Thou shalt wake and think it sweet That thy love is near and kind. Sweeter still for lips to meet; Sweetest that thine heart doth hide Longing all unsatisfied With all longing's answering Howsoever close ye cling. Thou rememberest how of old E'en thy very pain grew cold, How ... (From : Marxists.org.)

Spring's Bedfellow
Spring went about the woods to-day, The soft-foot winter-thief, And found where idle sorrow lay 'Twixt flower and faded leaf. She looked on him, and found him fair For all she had been told; She knelt adown beside him there, And sang of days of old. His open eyes beheld her naught, Yet 'gan his lips to move; But life and deeds were in her thought, And he would sing of love. So sang they till their eyes did meet, And faded fear and shame; More bold he grew, and she more sweet, Until they sang the same. Until, say they who know the thing, Their very lips did kiss, And Sorrow laid abed with Spring Begat an earthly bliss. (From : Marxists.org.)

Pain And Time Strive Not
What part of the dread eternity Are those strange minutes that I gain, Mazed with the doubt of love and pain, When I thy delicate face may see, A little while before farewell? What share of the world's yearning-tide That flash, when new day bare and white Blots out my half-dream's faint delight, And there is nothing by my side, And well remembered is farewell? What drop in the gray flood of tears That time, when the long day toiled through, Worn out, shows naught for me to do, And nothing worth my labor bears The longing of that last farewell? What pity from the heavens above, What heed from out eternity, What word from the swift world for me? Speak, heed, and pity, O tender love, Who knew'st the days before farewell! (From : Marxists.org.)

On The Edge Of The Wilderness
Puellae. Whence comest thou, and whither goest thou? Abide! abide! longer the shadows grow; What hopest thou the dark to thee will show? Abide! abide! for we are happy here. Amans. Why should I name the land across the sea Wherein I first took hold on misery? Why should I name the land that flees from me? Let me depart, since ye are happy here. Puellae. What wilt thou do within the desert place Whereto thou turnest now thy careful face? Stay but a while to tell us of thy case. Abide! abide! for we are happy here. Amans. What, nigh the journey's end shall I abide, When in the waste mine own love wanders wide, When from all men for me she still doth hide? Let me dep... (From : Marxists.org.)