Fast and fain the bridal train along the night-storm rode amain.
Hard the steeds of lord and serf struck their hoofs out on the turf,
In the pauses of the rain.

Fast and fain the kinsmen's train along the storm pursued amain,
Steed on steed-track, dashing off,-thickening, doubling, hoof on hoof,
In the pauses of the rain.

And the bridegroom led the flight on his red-roan steed of might,
And the bride lay on his arm, still, as if she feared no harm,

Smiling out into the night.

Up the mountain wheeled the steed,-girth to ground, and fetlocks spread,Headlong bounds, and rocking flanks,-down he staggered, to the banks,

To the towers of Linteged.

On the steed she dropt her cheek, kissed his mane and kissed his neck— “I had happier die by thee, than live on a Lady Leigh,"

Were the first words she did speak.

But a three months' joyaunce lay 'twixt that moment and to-day,
When five hundred archers tall stand beside the castle wall,

To recapture Duchess May.

And the castle standeth black, with the red sun at its back,
And a fortnight's siege is done, and, except the Duchess, none

Can misdoubt the coming wrack.1

Then the captain, young Lord Leigh, with his eyes so grey of blee,2
And thin lips that scarcely sheath the cold white gnashing teeth,

Gnashed in smiling, absently,

Cried aloud, "So goes the day, bridegroom fair of Duchess May!
Look thy last upon the sun! if thou seest to-morrow's one,
Twill be through a foot of clay.

"Peck on blindly, netted dove! If a wife's name thee behoove,
Thou shalt wear the same to-morrow, ere the grave has hid the sorrow
Of thy last ill-mated love.

"O'er his fixed and silent mouth thou and I will call back troth. He shall altar be, and priest, and he will not cry, at least,

'I forbid you-I am loth!'

"I will wring thy fingers pale in the gauntlet of my mail.
'Little hand and muckle gold' close shall lie within my hold,
As the sword did, to prevail."

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,
Oh, and laughed the Duchess May, and her soul did put away
All his boasting for a jest.

In her chamber did she sit, laughing low to think of it,-
"Tower is strong and will is free,-thou canst boast, my Lord of Leigh,
But thou boastest little wit."

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60

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west;
On the tower the castle's lord leant in silence on his sword,
With an anguish in his breast.

With a spirit-laden weight did he lean down passionate;-
They have almost sapped1 the wall,-they will enter therewithal,
With no knocking at the gate.

Then the sword he leant upon shivered, snapped upon the stone;-
"Sword," he thought, with inward laugh, "ill thou servest for a staff,
When thy nobler use is done!

"Sword, thy nobler use is done! Tower is lost, and shame begun!
If we met them in the breach, hilt to hilt or speech to speech,
We should die there, each for one.

"If we met them at the wall, we should singly, vainly fall. But if I die here alone, then I die, who am but one,

And die nobly for them all.

"Five true friends lie, for my sake, in the moat and in the brake;2 Thirteen warriors lie at rest, with a black wound in the breast, And not one of these will wake.

"So no more of this shall be! heart-blood weighs too heavily, And I could not sleep in grave, with the faithful and the brave Heaped around and over me.

"These shall never die for me,-life-blood falls too heavily; And if I die here apart, o'er my dead and silent heart They shall pass out safe and free.

"When the foe hath heard it said, 'Death holds Guy of Linteged,' That new corse new peace shall bring, and a blessèd blessed thing Shall the stone be at its head.

"Then my friends shall pass out free, and shall bear my memory; Then my foes shall sleek3 their pride, soothing fair my widowed bride, Whose sole sin was love of me.

"She will weep her woman's tears, she will pray her woman's prayer, But her heart is young in pain, and her hopes will spring again

By the suntime of her years."

All these silent thoughts did swim o'er his eyes grown strange and dim,
Till his true men in the place wished they stood there face to face

With the foe instead of him.

"One last oath, my friends that were faithful hearts to do and dare!
Tower must fall, and bride be lost! swear me service worth the cost!"
Bold they stood around to swear.

"Each man clasp my hand and swear, by the deed we failed in there;
Not for vengeance, not for right, will ye strike one blow to-night!"
Pale they stood around to swear.

3 sleek. Soothe, calm.

"One last boon, young Ralph and Clare! faithful hearts to do and dare! Bring that steed up from his stall, which she kissed before you all!

Guide him up the turret-stair.

"Ye shall harness him aright, and lead upward to this height,
Once in love, and twice in war, hath he borne me strong and fair;
He shall bear me far to-night."

Then his men looked to and fro, when they heard him speaking so.
"Las! the noble heart," they thought; "he in sooth is grief-distraught.
Would we stood here with the foe!"

But a fire flashed from his eye, 'twixt their thought and their reply: "Have ye so much time to waste? We who ride here must ride fast, As we wish our foes to fly."

They have fetched the steed with care, in the harness he did wear,
Past the court, and through the doors, across the rushes of the floors,
But they goad him up the stair.

Then from out her bower chambere1 did the Duchess May repair.
"Tell me now what is your need," said the lady, "of this steed,
That ye goad him up the stair?"

"Get thee back, sweet Duchess May! Hope is gone like yesterday;
One-half hour completes the breach; and thy lord grows wild of speech!
Get thee in, sweet lady, and pray.

"In the east tower, highest of all, loud he cries for steed from stall.
He would ride as far, quoth he, as for love and victory,
Though he rides the castle wall."

She stood up in bitter case, with a pale yet steady face,

Like a statue thunderstruck, which, though quivering, seems to look
Right against the thunder-place.

And her foot trod in, with pride, her own tears i' the stone beside,— "Go to, faithful friends, go to !-judge no more what ladies do,

No, nor how their lords may ride!"

Then the good steed's rein she took, and his neck did kiss and stroke;
Soft he neighed to answer her, and then followed up the stair,

For the love of her sweet look.

Oh, and steeply, steeply wound up the narrow stair around!
Oh, and closely, closely speeding, step by step beside her treading,
Did he follow, meek as hound.

On the east tower, highest of all-there, where never a hoof did fall-
Out they swept a vision steady, noble steed and lovely lady,

Calm as if in bower or stall.

Down she knelt at her lord's knee, and she looked up silently,
And he kissed her twice and thrice, for that look within her eyes

Which he could not bear to see,

I chambere. Pronounce 'shom-bare."

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Quoth he, "Get thee from this strife-and the sweet saints bless thy life!
In this hour I stand in need of my noble red-roan steed,

But no more of noble wife."

Quoth she, "Meekly have I done all thy biddings under sun;
But by all my womanhood, which is proved, so true and good,
I will never do this one.

"So the sweet saints be with me," did she utter solemnly, "If a man, this eventide, on this castle wall will ride, He shall ride the same with me."

Oh, he sprang up in the selle,1 and he laughed out bitter-well:
"Wouldst thou ride among the leaves, as we used on other eves,
To hear chime a vesper bell?"

She clung closer to his knee: "Ay, beneath the cypress-tree!
Mock me not, for otherwhere than along the greenwood fair
Have I ridden fast with thee.

"Fast I rode with new-made vows, from my angry kinsman's house; What, and would you men should reck2 that I dared more for love's sake As a bride than as a spouse?

"What, and would you it shall fall, as a proverb, before all,

That a bride may keep your side while through castle-gate you ride,
Yet eschews the castle wall?"

Ho! the breach yawns into ruin, and roars up against her suing ;*
With the inarticulate din, and the dreadful falling in,-

Shrieks of doing and undoing!

Evermore the foemen pour through the crash of window and door,

And the shouts of "Leigh and Leigh," and the shrieks of "Kill" and "Flee"
Strike up clear amid the roar.

Thrice he wrung her hands in twain, but they closed and closed again;
Wild she clung, as one, withstood, clasps a Christ upon the rood,5

In a spasm of deathly pain.

Back he reined his steed, back-thrown on the slippery coping-stone;
Back the iron hoofs did grind on the battlement behind,
Whence a hundred feet went down.

And his heel did press and goad on the quivering flank bestrode,-
"Friends and brothers, save my wife! Pardon, sweet, in change for life,—
But I ride alone to God!"

Straight as if the Holy Name had upbreathed her like a flame,
She upsprang, she rose upright-in his selle she sate in sight;

By her love she overcame.

And her head was on his breast, where she smiled as one at rest. "Ring!" she cried, "O vesper bell, in the beechwood's old chapelle! But the passing-belle rings best."

I selle.
Saddle.
4 suing. Beseeching.

2 reck. Think.
5 rood. Crucifix.

eschew. Avoid.

passing-bell. Bell tolled for a death.

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190

They have caught out at the rein, which Sir Guy threw loose-in vain-
For the horse in stark despair, with his front hoofs poised in air,

On the last verge rears amain.

Now he hangs-he rocks between, and his nostrils curdle in!
Now he shivers head and hoof, and the flakes of foam fall off,
And his face grows fierce and thin!

And a look of human woe from his staring eyes did go,
And a sharp cry uttered he, in a foretold agony

Of the headlong death below,

And "Ring, ring, thou passing-bell!" still she cried, " the old chapelle!"
Then, back toppling, crashing back, a dead weight flung out to wrack,
Horse and riders overfell.

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,

And I read this ancient rime in the churchyard, while the chime
Slowly tolled for one at rest.

The abeles1 moved in the sun, and the river smooth did run,
And the ancient rime rang strange, with its passion and its change,
Here, where all done lay undone.

Then, O spirits, did I say, ye who rode so fast that day,
Did star-wheels and angel wings, with their holy winnowings,
Keep beside you all the way?

Beating heart and burning brow, ye are very patient now,

And the children might be bold to pluck the king-cups from your mould
Ere a month had let them grow.

In your patience ye are strong; cold and heat ye take not wrong;
When the trumpet of the angel blows Eternity's evangel,
Time will seem to you not long.

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,
And I said in underbreath-All our life is mixed with death,
And who knoweth which is best?

Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west,

And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness,
Round our restlessness His rest.

(1844)

I abeles. White poplars.

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