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Nor hate the hearts that love them with- “O fairest, hear me now, who do thy will, out guile;
396 Plead for thy rebel that she be not slain, Wilt thou be worse than these, and is thy But live and love and be thy servant smile
430 A vain device of him who set thee here, Ah! give her joy and take away my pain, An empty dream of some artificer? And thus two long-enduring servants
gain. “O great one, some men love, and are An easy thing this is to do for me, ashamed;
400 What need of my vain words to weary Some men are weary of the bonds of love; thee? Yea, and by some men lightly art thou blamed,
“But none the less this place will I not That from thy toils their lives they cannot leave
Until I needs must go my death to meet, And ʼmid the ranks of men their manhood Or at thy hands some happy sign reprove.
ceive Alas! O goddess, if thou slayest me 405 That in great joy we twain may one day What new immortal can I serve but thee? greet
Thy presence here and kiss thy silver feet, "Think then, will it bring honor to thy Such as we deem thee, fair beyond all head
440 If folk say, ' Everything aside he cast, Victorious o'er our servants and our lords." And to all fame and honor was he dead, And to his one hope now is dead at last, Then from the altar back a space he drew, Since all unholpen he is gone and past: 411 But from the Queen turned not his face Ah! the gods love not man, for certainly away, He to his helper did not cease to cry.' But 'gainst a pillar leaned, until the blue
That arched the sky, at ending of the day, "Nay, but thou wilt help: they who died Was turned to ruddy gold and changing before
446 Not single-hearted, as I deem, came here; And clear, but low, the nigh-ebbed windTherefore unthanked they laid their gifts
less sea before
416 In the still evening murmured ceaselessly. Thy stainless feet, still shivering with their fear,
And there he stood when all the sun was Lest in their eyes their true thought might down; appear,
Nor had he moved when the dim golden Who sought to be the lords of that fair light,
Like the far luster of a godlike town, Dreaded of men and winners of renown. 420 Had left the world to seeming hopeless
night; “O Queen, thou knowest I pray not for Nor would he move the more when wan this:
moonlight Oh, set us down together in some place Streamed through the pillars for a little Where not a voice can break our heaven of while, bliss,
And lighted up the white Queen's changeWhere naught but rocks and I can see her less smile.
455 face, Softening beneath the marvel of thy Naught noted he the shallow flowing sea, grace,
425 As step by step it set the wrack' a-swim; Where not a foot our vanished steps can The yellow torchlight nothing noted he track,
Wherein with fluttering gown and halfThe golden age, the golden age come bared limb back!
1 sea-weed cast ashore by the waves.
The temple damsels sung their midnight And still grew greater, till Milanion hymn;
Saw naught for dazzling light that round And naught the doubled stillness of the him shone.
490 fane When they were gone and all was hushed
But as he staggered with his arms outagain.
Delicious unnamed odors breathed around; But when the waves had touched the
For languid happiness he bowed his head, marble base, And with wet eyes sank down upon
the And steps the fish swim over twice a day,
ground, The dawn beheld him sunken in his
Nor wished for aught, nor any dream he
found place 465
495 Upon the floor; and sleeping there he lay,
To give him reason for that happiness, Not heeding aught the little jets of spray
Or make him ask more knowledge of his
bliss. The roughened sea brought nigh, across him cast,
At last his eyes were cleared, and he could For as one dead all thought from him had passed.
Through happy tears the goddess face to
face Yet long before the sun had showed his with that faint image of divinity, 500 head,
470 Whose well-wrought smile and dainty Long ere the varied hangings on the changeless grace wall
Until that morn so gladdened all the place; Had gained once more their blue and green Then he unwitting cried aloud her name, and red,
And covered up his eyes for fear and He rose as one some well-known sign doth shame.
call When war upon the city's gates doth fall, But through the stillness he her voice And scarce like one fresh risen out of
Piercing his heart with joy scarce bearHe 'gan again his broken watch to keep. able,
That said, "Milanion, wherefore dost Then he turned round; not for the sea
thou fear? gull's cry
I am not hard to those who love me well; That wheeled above the temple in his List to what I a second time will tell, flight,
And thou mayest hear perchance, and Not for the fresh south-wind that lovingly
live to save
510 Breathed on the new-born day and dying The cruel maiden from a loveless grave. night,
“See, by my feet three golden apples lie, But some strange hope 'twixt fear and
Such fruit among the heavy roses falls, great delight
Such fruit my watchful damsels carefully Drew round his face, now flushed, now
Store up within the best loved of my pale and wan,
515 And still constrained his eyes the sea to
Ancient Damascus, where the lover calls
light Now a faint light lit up the southern
The rose-leaves flutter round me in the sky,
night. Not sun or moon, for all the world was gray,
485 “And note that these are not alone most But this a bright cloud seemed, that drew fair anigh,
With heavenly gold, but longing strange Lighting the dull waves that beneath it lay they bring
520 As toward the temple still it took its way, Unto the hearts of men, who will not care,
Beholding these, for any once-loved thing But little ere the noontide did he rise, Till round the shining sides their fingers And why he felt so happy scarce could cling.
555 And thou shalt see thy well-girt swiftfoot Until the gleaming apples met his eyes. maid
Then, leaving the fair place where this By sight of these amid her glory stayed. befell,
Oft he looked back as one who loved it "For bearing these within a scrip with well, thee,
Then homeward to the haunts of men 'gan When first she heads thee from the starting- wend place
To bring all things unto a happy end. 560 Cast down the first one for her eyes to see, And when she turns aside make on apace, And if again she heads thee in the race Now has the lingering month at last gone Spare not the other two to cast aside
531 by, If she not long enough behind will bide. Again are all folk around the running
place. "Farewell, and when has come the happy Nor other seems the dismal pageantry time
Than heretofore, but that another face That she Diana's raiment must unbind, Looks o'er the smooth course ready for And all the world seems blessed with
565 Saturn's clime,
535 For now, beheld of all, Milanion And thou with eager arms about her Stands on the spot ke twice has looked twined
upon. Beholdest first her gray eyes growing kind,
But yet—what change is this that holds Surely, O trembler, thou shalt scarcely the maid? then
Does she indeed see in his glittering eye Forget the Helper of unhappy men." More than disdain of the sharp shearing
570 Milanion raised his head at this last Some happy hope of help and victory? word,
540 The others seemed to say, “We come to For now so soft and kind she seemed to be die; No longer of her godhead was he feared; Look down upon us for a little while, Too late he looked, for nothing could he That, dead, we may bethink us of thy see
smile.” But the white image glimmering doubtfully In the departing twilight cold and gray, But he—what look of mastery was this 575 And those three apples on the steps that He cast on her? Why were his lips so red? lay.
546 Why was his face so flushed with happi
ness? These then he caught up, quivering with So looks not one who deems himself but delight,
dead, Yet fearful lest it all might be a dream, E'en if to death he bows a willing head; And though aweary with the watchful So rather looks a god well pleased to find night,
Some earthly damsel fashioned to his And sleepless nights of longing, still did mind. deem
550 He could not sleep; but yet the first sun- Why must she drop her lids before his gaze, beam
And even as she casts adown her eyes That smote the fane across the heaving Redden to note his eager glance of praise, deep
And wish that she were clad in other Shone on him laid in calm untroubled guise?
Why must the memory to her heart arise
Of things unnoticed when they first were Note, too, the bow that she was wont to heard,
bear Some lover's song, some answering maid- She laid aside to grasp the glittering prize, en's word?
And o'er her shoulder from the quiver fair
Three arrows fell and lay before her eyes What makes these longings, vague, with- Unnoticed, as amidst the people's cries 621 out a name,
She sprang to head the strong Milanion, And this vain pity never felt before, 590 Who now the turning-post had wellnigh This sudden languor, this contempt of won.
fame, This tender sorrow for the time past o'er, But as he set his mighty hand on it, These doubts that grow each minute more White fingers underneath his own were laid, and more?
And white limbs from his dazzled eyes did Why does she tremble as the time grows flit;
Then he the second fruit cast by the maid, And weak defeat and woful victory fear? But she ran on awhile, then as afraid
Wavered and stopped, and turned and But while she seemed to hear her beating made no stay heart,
Until the globe with its bright fellow lay. Above their heads the trumpet blast rang out,
Then, as a troubled glance she cast And forth they sprang; and she must play around,
Now far ahead the Argive could she see, Then flew her white feet, knowing not a And in her garment's hem one hand she doubt,
wound Though, slackening once, she turned her To keep the double prize, and strenuously head about,
600 Sped o'er the course, and little doubt had But then she cried aloud and faster fled
635 Than e'er before, and all men deemed him to win the day, though now but scanty dead.
Was left betwixt him and the winningBut with no sound he raised aloft his hand, place. And thence what seemed a ray of light there flew
Short was the way unto such wingèd feet; And past the maid rolled on along the Quickly she gained upon him, till at sand;
605 last Then trembling she her feet, together He turned about her eager eyes to meet, drew,
And from his hand the third fair apple And in her heart a strong desire there cast.
She wavered not, but turned and ran so To have the toy: some god she thought fast had given
After the prize that should her bliss fulfil, That gift to her, to make of earth a heaven. That in her hand it lay ere it was still.
Then from the course with eager steps she Nor did she rest, but turned about to win ran,
610 Once more an unblest woful victory— 646 And in her odorous bosom laid the gold. And yet-and yet-why does her breath But when she turned again, the great- begin limbed man
To fail her, and her feet drag heavily? Now well ahead she failed not to behold, Why fails she now to see if far or nigh And, mindful of her glory waxing cold, The goal is? Why do her gray eyes grow Sprang up and followed him in hot pursuit, dim?
650 Though with one hand she touched the Why do these tremors run through every golden fruit.
She spreads her arms abroad some stay To which the mud splashed wretchedly; 10 to find,
And the wet dripped from every tree Else must she fall, indeed, and findeth this, Upon her head and heavy hair, A strong man's arms about her body And on her eyelids broad and fair; twined.
654 | The tears and rain ran down her face. Nor may she shudder now to feel his kiss, So wrapped she is in new unbroken bliss; By fits and starts they rode apace, 15 Made happy that the foe the prize hath And very often was his place
Far off from her; he had to ride She weeps glad tears for all her glory done. Ahead, to see what might betide
When the roads crossed; and sometimes,
when Shatter the trumpet, hew adown the posts! | There rose a murmuring from his men, Upon the brazen altar break the sword, 660 Had to turn back with promises; And scatter incense to appease the ghosts Ah me! she had but little ease; Of those who died here by their own award. And often for pure doubt and dread Bring forth the image of the mighty Lord, She sobbed, made giddy in the head And her who unseen o'er the runners hung, By the swift riding; while, for cold, 25 And did a deed forever to be sung. 665 Her slender fingers scarce could hold
The wet reins; yea, and scarcely, too, Here are the gathered folk, make no delay; She felt the foot within her shoe Open King Schoeneus' well-filled treasury, Against the stirrup: all for this, Bring out the gifts long hid from light of To part at last without a kiss day,
Beside the haystack in the floods. The golden bowls o'erwrought with imagery,
For when they neared that old soaked hay, Gold chains, and unguents brought from They saw across the only way over sea,
670 That Judas, Godmar, and the three The saffron gown the old Phænician Red running lions dismally
Grinned from his pennon, under which Within the temple of the goddess wrought. In one straight line along the ditch,
They counted thirty heads.
So then, you,
While Robert turned round to his men, Returning from another victory, 675 She saw at once the wretched end, 40 In some cool bower do all that now is due! And, stooping down, tried hard to rend Since she in token of her service new Her coif the wrong way from her head, Shall give to Venus offerings rich enow,- And hid her eyes; while Robert said: Her maiden zone, her arrows, and her bow. “Nay, love, 'tis scarcely two to one;
At Poictiers where we made them run 45
So fast-why, sweet my love, good cheer, THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS The Gascon frontier is so near,
Nought after us."
But, “O," she said,
The court at Paris; those six men;
The gratings of the Chatelet; Along the dripping leafless woods, The swift Seine on some rainy day The stirrup touching either shoe, Like this, and people standing by, She rode astride as troopers do; And laughing, while my weak hands try 55 With kirtle kilted to her knee,
To recollect how strong men swim.