Classic Poem

That night of Spring, which had lain mildly down,
Brought forth a morn of cold and bitter cheer:
For on the bed of Dawn gan Boreas frown,
And pelted her with many a bolt severe,
Slinging his slanted sleet to scare away
Mild Zephyrus, that had been haunting near,
Mild Zephyrus, bringer of softer day:
He on his watery-coloured pinions flew,
And into other regions took his way.
Such was the day, born out of season due,
When Mano to his like and timeless end
Was hurled forth out of his iron mew
(Ah, woefulness which only death may mend
Bids death make haste mere deadliness to stay,
And struggling life from her poor haunt to send)
He was brought forth at dawning of the day:
(Now sorrow fills me with her waymenting,
And bids me stint the things that I should say:
He was my friend when life began to spring,
My comforter in peril, brave and sweet,
My company in weary wandering)
Led on a cart he was, bound hands and feet,
And from the castle drawn unto the stake,
Guarded by knights on horses strong and fleet
A hundred round that sorry hearse did strake,
To execute on him their vengeance drear,
Who (as they deemed) did out of knighthood break.
There Eustace rode, a wretched cavalier,
Surrounded by his kinsmen dour and stern:
And there the Fool, in his outlandish gear;
Whose folly ceaseless as his rage did burn.
A rebeck held he, and thereon he played,
Whilst still his glare on Mano would he turn
He bitter jests and filthy scoffing made:
His ass, that felt full oft his kicking heel,
Amid the mighty horses ran and brayed.
Of Mano it was said that stone nor steel
No firmer countenance than he could show:
Nor he from silence did his lips unseal:
Save that to himself he smiled and muttered low,
" I feel the smell of nettles in warm shade. "
This did I hear of him, and nothing mo.
And, thus unto the stake their voyage made,
There was he bound, and waiting death he stood:
And none might say they saw him aught dismayed.
Anon, as he had seen her in the wood,
He seemed to see, approaching the same way,
Diantha, covered with her scarlet hood,
And closely folded in her garments grey.
Who, being come, unto the stake was tied,
While all men made a space, and moved away.
And now the fire was to the pile applied:
Then, when it gan to blaze, and mounted high,
The scarlet hood fell from her face aside:
And lo, Joanna! It is said a cry
Came from Sir Mano; and with mighty strain
He burst the bands the which his hands did tie.
Then to himself he drew her by the chain
Until her mouth kissed his: then suddenly
Into her mouth his fingers pressed amain:
And she hung dead before the flame came nigh.
Then the flame reached: and he, standing upright,
Held down his hands, and suffered silently.
This the last stroke of destiny's fell might
To die and slay his own dear love, would seem:
And like a felon, who was truest knight.
But yet her death his promise did redeem
To bear Diantha to her father old:
And that much solace ye thereof may deem.
And his conclusion happiness did hold,
To meet at last in death with blessed love,
And faith approved by death in death to fold.
He saved from pain that tender-footed dove,
Not the wild bird of wilfulness and strife:
He died with pain, but raised all pain above,
And ending at the summit of man's life.