Classic Poem

The Fool Errant sat by the highway of life
— And his gaze wandered up and his gaze wandered down,
A vigorous youth, but with no wish to walk,
— Yet his longing was great for the distant town.

He whistled a little frivolous tune
— Which he felt to be pulsing with ecstasy,
For he thought that success always followed desire,
— Such a very superlative fool was he.

A maiden came by on an ambling mule,
— Her gown was rose-red and her kerchief blue,
On her lap she carried a basket of eggs.
— Thought the fool, " There is certainly room for two. "

So he jauntily swaggered towards the maid
— And put out his hand to the bridlerein.
" My pretty girl, " quoth the fool, " take me up,
— For to ride with you to the town I am fain. "

But the maiden struck at his upraised arm
— And pelted him hotly with eggs, a score.
The mule, lashed into a fury, ran;
— The fool went back to his stone and swore.

Then out of the cloud of settling dust
— The burly form of an abbot appeared,
Reading his office he rode to the town.
— And the fool got up, for his heart was cheered.

He stood in the midst of the long, white road
— And swept off his cap till it touched the ground.
" Ah, Reverent Sir, well met, " said the fool,
— " A worthier transport never was found.

" I pray you allow me to mount with you,
— Your palfrey seems both sturdy and young. "
The abbot looked up from the holy book
— And cried out in anger, " Hold your tongue!

" How dare you obstruct the King's high-road,
— You saucy varlet, get out of my way. "
Then he gave the fool a cut with his whip
— And leaving him smarting, he rode away.

The fool was angry, the fool was sore,
— And he cursed the folly of monks and maids.
" If I could but meet with a man, " sighed the fool,
— " For a woman fears, and a friar upbraids. "

Then he saw a flashing of distant steel
— And the clanking of harness greeted his ears,
And up the road journeyed knights-at-arms,
— With waving plumes and glittering spears.

The fool took notice and slowly arose,
— Not quite so sure was his foolish heart.
If priests and women would none of him
— Was it likely a knight would take his part?

They sang as they rode, these lusty boys,
— When one chanced to turn toward the highway's side,
" There's a sorry figure of fun, " jested he,
— " Well, Sirrah! move back, there is scarce room to ride. "

" Good Sirs, Kind Sirs, " begged the crestfallen fool,
— " I pray of your courtesy speech with you,
I'm for yonder town, and have no horse to ride,
— Have you never a charger will carry two? "

Then the company halted and laughed out loud.
— " Was such a request ever made to a knight? "
" And where are your legs, " asked one, " if you start,
— You may be inside the town gates tonight. "

" 'Tis a lazy fellow, let him alone,
— They've no room in the town for such idlers as he. "
But one bent from his saddle and said, " My man,
— Art thou not ashamed to beg charity!

" Thou are well set up, and thy legs are strong,
— But it much misgives me lest thou'rt a fool;
For beggars get only a beggar's crust,
— Wise men are reared in a different school. "

Then they clattered away in the dust and the wind,
— And the fool slunk back to his lonely stone;
He began to see that the man who asks
— Must likewise give and not ask alone.

Purple tree-shadows crept over the road,
— The level sun flung an orange light,
And the fool laid his head on the hard, gray stone
— And wept as he realized advancing night.

A great, round moon rose over a hill
— And the steady wind blew yet more cool;
And crouched on a stone a wayfarer sobbed,
— For at last he knew he was only a fool.