Classic Poem

Autafort on yonder summit
Smokes, a shapeless ruined mound,
Whilst before the King's pavilion
Stands its lord, with fetters bound;
" Art thou he, whose sword and ballads
Tumult raised in all the land,
Who the children's minds enkindled
'Gainst the father's strict command?

Stands before me he who boasted,
(Yielding to audacious pride),
That by only half his spirit
All his needs were well supplied?
Now the half hath failed to help thee,
Summon up the whole again;
Bid it build anew thy castle,
Bid it break thy bonds in twain! "

" As thou say'st, my lord and master,
Standeth here Bertran de Born,
He who with a song enkindled
Perigord and Ventadorn!
He who to his mighty master
Ever seemed an irksome thorn;
Loving whom, that master's children
Bore their father's hate and scorn.

Sat within the hall thy daughter,
Gaily dight, a prince's bride;
Sent from me, one sang before her,
Sang a strain I oft had tried;
Sang her bard's impassioned ballad
Loved by her in former years,
Till her shining bridal trinkets
Wholly were bedewed with tears.

Slumbering 'neath the olive's shadow,
Lightly woke thy fav'rite son,
When with stormy songs of battle,
Stirring wrath, his ears I won.
Soon his horse was girthed and saddled,
I his standard bore elate,
Till he met the fatal arrow
Smiting him by Montfort's gate.

Bleeding in my arms I held him —
Not the cold and piercing steel,
But to die by thee accursed
Caused him deathly pangs to feel.
He his hand stretched out to clasp thee
Over valley, sea, and hill;
Since thy hand was still so distant,
Clasped he mine more closely still.

Then — like Autafort up yonder —
All my strength and pride was o'er;
Not the whole nor half was left me,
Song and shaft were mine no more.
Easily mine arms were fettered,
Since my spirit prisoned lies;
Only for a song of sorrow
Gloomy power it still supplies. "

Then the king bows down his forehead,
" Thou my son hast wiled away;
Once my daughter's heart thou charmedst,
Mine thy words have moved to-day.
Take my hand, my son's dear comrade,
Due to him in sign of grace!
Loose his bonds — of thy great spirit
Even I have caught a trace. "