Complete Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

As we wish our foes to fly.”

  LX.

  They have fetched the steed with care, in the harness he did wear —

  Toll slowly.

  Past the court and through the doors, across the rushes of the floors,

  But they goad him up the stair.

  LXI.

  Then from out her bower chambere did the Duchess May repair:

  Toll slowly.

  “Tell me now what is your need,” said the lady, “of this steed,

  That ye goad him up the stair?”

  LXII.

  Calm she stood; unbodkined through, fell her dark hair to her shoe:

  Toll slowly.

  And the smile upon her face, ere she left the tiring-glass,

  Had not time enough to go.

  LXIII.

  “Get thee back, sweet Duchess May! hope is gone like yesterday”:

  Toll slowly.

  One half-hour completes the breach; and thy lord grows wild of speech —

  Get thee in, sweet lady, and pray!

  LXIV.

  “In the east tower, high’st of all, loud he cries for steed from

  stall”:

  Toll slowly.

  “‘He would ride as far,’ quoth he, ‘as for love and victory,

  Though he rides the castle-wall.’

  LXV.

  “And we fetch the steed from stall, up where never a hoof did fall” —

  Toll slowly.

  “Wifely prayer meets deathly need: may the sweet Heavens hear thee

  plead

  If he rides the castle-wall!”

  LXVI.

  Low she dropt her head, and lower, till her hair coiled on the floor —

  Toll slowly.

  And tear after tear you heard fall distinct as any word

  Which you might be listening for.

  LXVII.

  “Get thee in, thou soft ladye! here is never a place for thee!”

  Toll slowly.

  “Braid thine hair and clasp thy gown, that thy beauty in its moan

  May find grace with Leigh of Leigh.”

  LXVIII.

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

  Toll slowly.

  Like a statue thunderstruck, which, though quivering, seems to look

  Right against the thunder-place.

  LXIX.

  And her foot trod in, with pride, her own tears i’ the stone beside —

  Toll slowly.

  “Go to, faithful friends, go to! judge no more what ladies do,

  No, nor how their lords may ride!”

  LXX.

  Then the good steed’s rein she took, and his neck did kiss and stroke:

  Toll slowly.

  Soft he neighed to answer her, and then followed up the stair

  For the love of her sweet look:

  LXXI.

  Oh, and steeply, steeply wound up the narrow stair around —

  Toll slowly.

  Oh, and closely, closely speeding, step by step beside her treading

  Did he follow, meek as hound.

  LXXII.

  On the east tower, high’st of all, — there, where never a hoof did

  fall —

  Toll slowly.

  Out they swept, a vision steady, noble steed and lovely lady,

  Calm as if in bower or stall.

  LXXIII.

  Down she knelt at her lord’s knee, and she looked up silently —

  Toll slowly.

  And he kissed her twice and thrice, for that look within her eyes

  Which he could not bear to see.

  LXXIV.

  Quoth he, “Get thee from this strife, and the sweet saints bless thy

  life!”

  Toll slowly.

  “In this hour I stand in need of my noble red-roan steed,

  But no more of my noble wife.”

  LXXV.

  Quoth she, “Meekly have I done all thy biddings under sun”:

  Toll slowly.

  “But by all my womanhood, which is proved so, true and good,

  I will never do this one.

  LXXVI.

  “Now by womanhood’s degree and by wifehood’s verity” —

  Toll slowly.

  “In this hour if thou hast need of thy noble red-roan steed,

  Thou hast also need of me.

  LXXVII.

  “By this golden ring ye see on this lifted hand pardie” —

  Toll slowly.

  “If, this hour, on castle-wall can be room for steed from stall,

  Shall be also room for me.

  LXXVIII.

  “So the sweet saints with me be,” (did she utter solemnly) —

  Toll slowly.

  “If a man, this eventide, on this castle wall will ride,

  He shall ride the same with me.”

  LXXIX.

  Oh, he sprang up in the selle and he laughed out bitter-well —

  Toll slowly.

  “Wouldst thou ride among the leaves, as we used on other eves,

  To hear chime a vesper-bell?”

  LXXX.

  She clung closer to his knee— “Ay, beneath the cypress-tree!”

  Toll slowly.

  “Mock me not, for otherwhere than along the greenwood fair

  Have I ridden fast with thee.

  LXXXI.

  “Fast I rode with new-made vows from my angry kinsman’s house”:

  Toll slowly.

  “What, and would you men should reck that I dared more for love’s sake

  As a bride than as a spouse?

  LXXXII.

  “What, and would you it should fall, as a proverb, before all” —

  Toll slowly.

  “That a bride may keep your side while through castle-gate you ride,

  Yet eschew the castle-wall?”

  LXXXIII.

  Ho! the breach yawns into ruin and roars up against her suing —

  Toll slowly.

  With the inarticulate din and the dreadful falling in —

  Shrieks of doing and undoing!

  LXXXIV.

  Twice he wrung her hands in twain, but the small hands closed again.

  Toll slowly.

  Back he reined the steed — back, back! but she trailed along his track

  With a frantic clasp and strain.

  LXXXV.

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

  Toll slowly.

  And the shouts of Leigh and Leigh, and the shrieks of “kill!” and

  “flee!”

  Strike up clear amid the roar.

  LXXXVI.

  Thrice he wrung her hands in twain, but they closed and clung again —

  Toll slowly.

  While she clung, as one, withstood, clasps a Christ upon the rood,

  In a spasm of deathly pain.

  LXXXVII.

  She clung wild and she clung mute with her shuddering lips half-shut.

  Toll slowly.

  Her head fallen as half in swound, hair and knee swept on the ground,

  She clung wild to stirrup and foot.

  LXXXVIII.

  Back he reined his steed back-thrown on the slippery coping-stone:

  Toll slowly.

  Back the iron hoofs did grind on the battlement behind

  Whence a hundred feet went down:

  LXXXIX.

  And his heel did press and goad on the quivering flank bestrode —

  Toll slowly.

  “Friends and brothers, save my wife! Pardon, sweet, in change for

  life, —

  But I ride alone to God.”

  XC.

  Straight as if the Holy name had upbreathed her like a flame —

  Toll slowly.

  She upsprang, she rose upright, in his selle she sate in sight,

  By her love she overcame.

  XCI.

  And her head was on his breast where she smiled as one at rest —
>
  Toll slowly.

  “Ring,” she cried, “O vesper-bell in the beechwood’s old chapelle —

  But the passing-bell rings best!”

  XCII.

  They have caught out at the rein which Sir Guy threw loose — in vain —

  Toll slowly.

  For the horse in stark despair, with his front hoofs poised in air,

  On the last verge rears amain.

  XCIII.

  Now he hangs, he rocks between, and his nostrils curdle in —

  Toll slowly.

  Now he shivers head and hoof and the flakes of foam fall off,

  And his face grows fierce and thin:

  XCIV.

  And a look of human woe from his staring eyes did go:

  Toll slowly.

  And a sharp cry uttered he, in a foretold agony

  Of the headlong death below, —

  XCV.

  And, “Ring, ring, thou passing-bell,” still she cried, “i’ the old

  chapelle!”

  Toll slowly.

  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 —

  Toll slowly.

  And I read this ancient Rhyme, in the churchyard, while the chime

  Slowly tolled for one at rest.

  II.

  The abeles moved in the sun, and the river smooth did run —

  Toll slowly.

  And the ancient Rhyme rang strange, with its passion and its change,

  Here, where all done lay undone.

  III.

  And beneath a willow tree I a little grave did see —

  Toll slowly —

  Where was graved — HERE, UNDEFILED, LIETH MAUD, A THREE-YEAR CHILD,

  EIGHTEEN HUNDRED FORTY-THREE.

  IV.

  Then O spirits, did I say, ye who rode so fast that day —

  Toll slowly.

  Did star-wheels and angel wings with their holy winnowings

  Keep beside you all the way?

  V.

  Though in passion ye would dash, with a blind and heavy crash —

  Toll slowly —

  Up against the thick-bossed shield of God’s judgment in the field, —

  Though your heart and brain were rash, —

  VI.

  Now, your will is all unwilled; now, your pulses are all stilled:

  Toll slowly.

  Now, ye lie as meek and mild (whereso laid) as Maud the child

  Whose small grave was lately filled.

  VII.

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

  Toll slowly.

  And the children might be bold to pluck the kingcups from your mould

  Ere a month had let them grow.

  VIII.

  And you let the goldfinch sing in the alder near in spring —

  Toll slowly.

  Let her build her nest and sit all the three weeks out on it,

  Murmuring not at anything.

  IX.

  In your patience ye are strong, cold and heat ye take not wrong —

  Toll slowly.

  When the trumpet of the angel blows eternity’s evangel,

  Time will seem to you not long.

  X.

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

  Toll slowly.

  And I said in underbreath, — All our life is mixed with death,

  And who knoweth which is best?

  XI.

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

  Toll slowly.

  And I smiled to think God’s greatness flowed around our

  incompleteness, —

  Round our restlessness, His rest.

  THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN’S NEST.

  So the dreams depart,

  So the fading phantoms flee,

  And the sharp reality

  Now must act its part.

  WESTWOOD’S Beads from a Rosary

  I.

  Little Ellie sits alone

  ‘Mid the beeches of a meadow,

  By a stream-side on the grass,

  And the trees are showering down

  Doubles of their leaves in shadow

  On her shining hair and face.

  II.

  She has thrown her bonnet by,

  And her feet she has been dipping

  In the shallow water’s flow:

  Now she holds them nakedly

  In her hands, all sleek and dripping,

  While she rocketh to and fro.

  III.

  Little Ellie sits alone,

  And the smile she softly uses

  Fills the silence like a speech

  While she thinks what shall be done,

  And the sweetest pleasure chooses

  For her future within reach.

  IV.

  Little Ellie in her smile

  Chooses— “I will have a lover

  Riding on a steed of steeds:

  He shall love me without guile,

  And to him I will discover

  The swan’s nest among the reeds.

  V.

  “And the steed shall be red-roan,

  And the lover shall be noble,

  With an eye that takes the breath:

  And the lute he plays upon

  Shall strike ladies into trouble,

  As his sword strikes men to death.

  VI.

  “And the steed it shall be shod

  All in silver, housed in azure,

  And the mane shall swim the wind;

  And the hoofs along the sod

  Shall flash onward and keep measure,

  Till the shepherds look behind.

  VII.

  “But my lover will not prize

  All the glory that he rides in,

  When he gazes in my face:

  He will say, ‘O Love, thine eyes

  Build the shrine my soul abides in,

  And I kneel here for thy grace!’

  VIII.

  “Then, ay, then he shall kneel low,

  With the red-roan steed anear him

  Which shall seem to understand,

  Till I answer, ‘Rise and go!

  For the world must love and fear him

  Whom I gift with heart and hand.’

  IX.

  “Then he will arise so pale,

  I shall feel my own lips tremble

  With a yes I must not say,

  Nathless maiden-brave, ‘Farewell,’

  I will utter, and dissemble —

  ‘Light to-morrow with to-day!’

  X.

  “Then he’ll ride among the hills

  To the wide world past the river,

  There to put away all wrong;

  To make straight distorted wills,

  And to empty the broad quiver

  Which the wicked bear along.

  XI.

  “Three times shall a young foot-page

  Swim the stream and climb the mountain

  And kneel down beside my feet —

  ‘Lo, my master sends this gage,

  Lady, for thy pity’s counting!

  What wilt thou exchange for it?’

  XII.

  “And the first time I will send

  A white rosebud for a guerdon,

  And the second time, a glove;

  But the third time — I may bend

  From my pride, and answer— ‘Pardon

  If he comes to take my love.’

  XIII.

  “Then the young foot-page will run,

  Then my lover will ride faster,

  Till he kneeleth at my knee:

  ‘I am a duke’s eldest son,

  Thousand serfs do call me master,

  But, O Love, I love but thee!’

  XIV.
>
  “He will kiss me on the mouth

  Then, and lead me as a lover

  Through the crowds that praise his deeds;

  And, when soul-tied by one troth,

  Unto him I will discover

  That swan’s nest among the reeds.”

  XV.

  Little Ellie, with her smile

  Not yet ended, rose up gaily,

  Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe,

  And went homeward, round a mile,

  Just to see, as she did daily,

  What more eggs were with the two.

  XVI.

  Pushing through the elm-tree copse,

  Winding up the stream, light-hearted,

  Where the osier pathway leads,

  Past the boughs she stoops — and stops.

  Lo, the wild swan had deserted,

  And a rat had gnawed the reeds!

  XVII.

  Ellie went home sad and slow.

  If she found the lover ever,

  With his red-roan steed of steeds,

  Sooth I know not; but I know

  She could never show him — never,

  That swan’s nest among the reeds!