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.)

Meeting In Winter
Winter in the world it is, Round about the unhoped kiss Whose dream I long have sorrowed o'er; Round about the longing sore, That the touch of thee shall turn Into joy too deep to burn. Round thine eyes and round thy mouth Passeth no murmur of the south, When my lips a little while Leave thy quivering tender smile, As we twain, hand holding hand, Once again together stand. Sweet is that, as all is sweet; For the white drift shalt thou meet, Kind and cold-cheeked and mine own, Wrapped about with deep-furred gown In the broad-wheeled chariot: Then the north shall spare us not; The wide-reaching waste of snow Wilder, lonelier yet shall grow As the reddened sun falls down. But the warders of the town, When they flash the torches out O'er the sn... (From : Marxists.org.)

Mother And Son
Now sleeps the land of houses, and dead night holds the street, And there thou liest, my baby, and sleepest soft and sweet; My man is away for awhile, but safe and alone we lie, And none heareth thy breath but thy mother, and the moon looking down from the sky On the weary waste of the town, as it looked on the grass-edged road Still warm with yesterday's sun, when I left my old abode; Hand in hand with my love, that night of all nights in the year; When the river of love o'erflowed and drowned all doubt and fear, And we two were alone in the world, and once if never again, We knew of the secret of earth and the tale of its labor and pain. Lo amid London I lift thee, and how little and light thou art, And thou without hope or fear thou fear... (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.)

Verses For Pictures
35. VERSES FOR PICTURES. Day. I am Day; I bring again Life and glory, Love and pain: Awake, arise! from death to death Through me the World's tale quickeneth. Spring. Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love. Summer. Summer looked for long am I; Much shall change or e'er I die. Prithee take it not amiss Though I weary thee with bliss. Autumn. Laden Autumn here I stand Worn of heart, and weak of hand: Naught but rest seems good to me, Speak the word that sets me free. Winter. I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amid of sleep: Who sh... (From : Marxists.org.)

Drawing Near The Light
Lo, when we wade the tangled wood, In haste and hurry to be there, Naught seem its leaves and blossoms good, For all that they be fashioned fair. But looking up, at last we see The glimmer of the open light, From o'er the place where we would be: Then grow the very brambles bright. So now, amid our day of strife, With many a matter glad we play, When once we see the light of life Gleam through the tangle of to-day. (From : Marxists.org.)