Classic Poem

Nurse . The dews will soon be falling, Flerida.
Come in, sweet lady.
F LERIDA .Hush! 'T is early yet.
Nurse . 'T is time, methinks, to say the rosary.
F LERIDA . See the sun hanging o'er the darkened hills
Bright as the Host above the multitude
Of bending worshippers! Tell thy beads here,
The congregation of these rustling leaves
Will answer all thy Aves patiently.
Nurse . I've dropped a stitch. I cannot see to work
'Neath trellises. These gentlefolk are mad.
The mistress of a castle sits without,
Like a poor homeless beggar!
F LERIDA . Nay, go in
And burn thy rush-light while the sun is shining,
Or, by the casement squinting, knit thy hose
While in these gilded clouds the seraphim
Are singing Glory. Go, I follow thee.
Nurse [ getting up to go ].
Alack, this rheum. Young bones will brave the cold
Till the twitch comes. — Trust me, 't is hazardous,
Sweet child, to tarry here beyond the moat
Alone, when evening falls. Once at thy age
My mother sent me on a night like this
To good old Prior Bennet, at Saint Giles.
He was her uncle and a saintly man —
How well do I remember his grey beard! —
She went to him for shrift, and on that day
She had a fainting turn: she had them oft
Till in the last, poor sainted soul, she died.
I needs must run and fetch him, for to die
Unreconciled was all my mother feared,
And but for that, she had so hard a life
She would have changed it any day for heaven,
And on the way ('t was scarce a rood from home)
An idle foul young lout that sauntered by
Griped at my frock — I tremble at it still —
Thank God, the Virgin willed that at the trice
Friar Peter (he was porter all that month)
Opened the gate to let two pilgrims out,
Bound, as they told us, for Jerusalem.
Else Heaven knows what had become of me,
Or whether I had ever had the face
To cheat my husband, as most wenches do,
Without confessing aught: for I am honest
If ever woman was.
F LERIDA .Go in, go in.
Nurse . Seest thou not I go? Can I make haste
With these poor aching joints? Thou think'st thee safe?
Remember Ulric in his dungeon plans
Vengeance upon you, and his friends abroad
Hatch plans for his deliverance. Thou a maid,
An orphan, friendless, with these ill-paid men
Guarding thy walls, what dost thou fading here?
Who knows but he is dead, thy pretty knight?
His time is up. Were he alive and true
He had spurred home, hearing thy father's death,
To claim thee and make good his heritage.
Fie on this fondness, girl! It had been wiser
To yield to Ulric. Was it not his place
To guard thee? Led he not thy father's men?
Ah, better be his wife, rich, safe, and loved,
Than wait for ever among enemies
For what will never come.
F LERIDA . Poor soul, go in.
The five years are not passed, and if they were
And I had ocular proof that he was dead,
Ulric should not be master in these walls.
But I should open arches in the tower
For bells to swing in, and the grass should grow
Upon the buried hinges of the draw.
Veiled we should walk within the garden-close,
And in the dimmed hall chant our psalmodies
With the frail voice of nuns. So get thee gone,
And summon better counsel to thy heart
Than quavers on thy lips. Go light thy taper,
And pray for the safe-coming of thy liege.
Nurse . I go. But thou, sweet lady, linger not.
The victuals will grow cold, as many a night
They have, since summer makes the twilight long
And thou com'st late to supper. — Ah, poor bones!
[ Exit.

F LERIDA .
Day wanes: full summer's hanging in the air.
Oh, tarry not, my own.
See! the first withered leaf is fallen there
And I am here alone.
Hath not my sorrow magic o'er thy breast?
Hath not my weary plight
The wings of love to fly into thy nest
And reach thee in the night?
Come to me, Palmerin. Thy trial 's o'er,
Thy knightly vow fulfilled.
Come before winter chokes the ways, before
My inmost soul is chilled.
Where dost thou wander? From what lonely moor
Dost thou salute this sun?
Forget'st thou in gay courts what I endure?
Lov'st thou some happier one?
Weak woman! Can my doubting heart not wait
While his true heart can fight?
Why should I falter while he fronts his fate,
Or mourn while he doth right?
Keep him, great world, till the white shield he bore
Be blazoned rich in pride.
Fear not to echo, deserts, he's no more,
If he have nobly died.
Re-enter Nurse ; later H UGH , a page .

Nurse . Run hither quickly, mistress. Hasten in
And bid them raise the bridge. Some horsemen climb
The western hill. Make haste, or all is lost.
Young Hugh espied them from the northern tower,
And gave us warning.
F LERIDA .Heaven hears my prayer.
Nurse . Madness. Come in. I prithee hasten, Hugh.
She'll take thy word, though she mistrusts my oath
Who never lied to her in all these years
That I have served her, and her mother, too,
Long before she was thought of. Speak, boy, speak.
Assure thy mistress that a host arrives.
H UGH . A single knight, my lady, clad in arms.
F LERIDA . Young, with fair locks?
H UGH .He had his helmet on.
F LERIDA . Saw'st thou his shield?
H UGH .It bore a rich device,
But what I know not.
F LERIDA .Came he mounted well?
H UGH . Right well, on a white steed. But at the turn
Dismounted, and now leads the charger up.
Nurse . O God, 't is he! I know him by that sign.
He always did so. [ A bugle is heard in the distance .
F LERIDA . God be my strength! Answer the bugle, Hugh.
Thy master's call. It is Sir Palmerin.
Again, again. — Summon the men-at-arms
And fetch my father's sword, his helm and shield,
That, with the great keys, I deliver them
To him whose right they are.
[ Exit H UGH .
The day is come,
Merciful God, the day is come at last.
Nurse . Runnest thou not to meet him? Flyest thou not?
Oh, if I could, I'd rush to kiss his hands
Full half-way down the steep. Alas! these bones.
F LERIDA . I, who have waited for him five long years,
May well be patient now. Here let him find me
Where last we parted, at the castle gate.

Re-enter H UGH , men-at-arms, and attendant, bearing some pieces of armour .

Nurse . Oh, I must weep for joy! See, where he comes,
Not so much changed but I should know him still
Among a thousand. Such a pretty child
As the knight was, and such a roguish boy!
Can this be Palmerin? Who could have fancied
That he should ever be this stalwart man?

Enter S IR P ALMERIN , who, seeing the lady F LERIDA , who remains motionless, goes to kneel before her .

P ALMERIN . Lady, hast thou forgotten Palmerin?
F LERIDA . Were memory dead, that voice would waken it.
P ALMERIN . What mean these weeds, these arms?
F LERIDA .That thou, my liege,
Art master in this castle.
P ALMERIN .Ah, thy father —
How long have we been orphaned, Flerida?
F LERIDA . Ten moons have shed their light upon his grave.
P ALMERIN . Oh, more than father —
F LERIDA . And thou more than son
Wast ever to him. He remembered thee
With his last breath, and bade me, when thou camest,
Render his arms, his vassals, and his towers
Into thy hand. My lord, receive the keys. [ Kneels .
P ALMERIN [ raising her ].
How gladly, if these keys unlock thy heart,
Dear lady. For my prize is not these walls,
Nor these stout men and honourable arms.
'T was not for them I served the Emperor
In many a battle waged in heathen lands.
'T was in the hope of what no strength of arm
Nor kingly favour, without grace of thine,
Could win for any man. If thou canst love me,
I take all else to do thee homage with;
But if thy heart, in my long absence won
By some more worthy suitor, would withdraw,
Keep the rest too, for to be wretched in
I have this whole vast world for heritage.
F LERIDA . My hand and heart my father plighted thee
Upon the morning when he dubbed thee knight.
Both shall be true. If other ground were lacking,
My father's choice were ground enough for love.
P ALMERIN . Nay, let not duty and thy father's will
Force thee to wed me. Bid thy heart pronounce.
F LERIDA . A holy love is not the fancy's choice.
A mother cherishes the child she bore,
Nature's dear gift, bestowed with many a pang
And weary vigil and sweet fluttering joy
That flies over a sea of brooding care.
A father is not chosen but revered,
For God appointed him. 'T is destiny,
And no man's wayward will, binds brothers, kindred,
And childhood's friends in everlasting bonds.
Our native land we chose not, nor our king,
Nor our first sovereign, God. All sacred ties
Are woven round us by the hand of heaven
And therefore bear us up. Let homeless traitors
Reject their lot, like fallen Lucifer
Wretched 'neath every sky; let the false rabble
Change with the moon its despicable chiefs;
Let the vain fop and goaded libertine
Pick their poor pleasures, and adulterous spirits
Pursue a phantom down the drifts of hell.
But we will breathe the air that quickened us
And see by this same light that gave us eyes,
Here rooted where God sowed us, flowering here
Where we have grown, making our constancy
A pivot for this wheeling universe.
Ah! 't is a fickle and unholy fondness
Springs from caprice of will. Who doteth once
May dote again, for who shall fetter fancy?
As thou couldst bare thy breast to fortune's arrows
Undaunted, for thy hope was all in God
And life or death must crown it, so my bosom,
Enshrining his good gifts, is satisfied
And cannot speak again. Him heaven gave me
Shall be my lord and my unchangeable love.
P ALMERIN . O constant lady! Let me then thank heaven,
That graced me with the treasure of thy troth.
Rejoice with me, my comrades. Say no more
That time has parted us, and devious chances
Governed our lives. How now, is this good Carl?
And little Hugh, so grown? And thou, old gossip,
Goes thy rheum better now the season warms?
But where is Ulric?
F LERIDA .Thou shalt know anon.
First bid the people give us leave awhile.
P ALMERIN . Make ready, then; we follow you.
[ Exeunt all save P ALMERIN and F LERIDA .
Dear saint,
Is this a vision or a waking truth
In which I see thee, smiling on my hopes,
As only visions smile on Jack-a-dreams?
How often have I dreamt between two battles
Thou stoodest thus above me in the dusk
Half joy, half courage!
F LERIDA .Haply 't was my prayer,
For prayer hath wings to travel in the night.
P ALMERIN . Didst thou remember —
F LERIDA .Not as others pray.
What need of blessings to protest I loved thee,
When benediction rose with every breath
From my dumb heart to thee? Awake, adream,
In woodland rambles or in household tasks,
I moved in thy love's presence as in God's,
One deity to me.
P ALMERIN .How undeserving,
Fair angel, are my merits of thy love!
How could I win it!
F LERIDA .Ah, if God can love thee,
Why should a mortal give a cause for love?
P ALMERIN . They say God loves us all.
F LERIDA .Such pitying love
Is his alone who knows the unsullied spirit
Shrouded at birth beneath this fleshly coil,
And can divine the stature of that virtue
Each yet might climb to. But in thee declared
Shine, Palmerin, the hopes of all the world.
What God beheld and destined when he called thee
Out of the void, he granted me to see
First through the haze of maiden dreams and now
With the deep glance of woman.
P ALMERIN .Then in sooth
'T was no vain fancy, as the learned say,
That made thy silent presence cross my path
Where'er I turned, for if I slept my dream
Painted thy smile, and when the vision fled
The sunlit fountain met me with thy gaze.
If the birds chirruped, it was Flerida ,
And Flerida if any minstrel sang.
Thy mien was in the lilies, the thin clouds
Contrived thy garments' fashion, and thy courage
Breathed from the mountains to renew my soul.
Nor was there need, for in these tables here
Thy name, thy looks, thy words, thy noble ways
Were graven deep, and, as the gaudy shadows
Stalked by me which men take for beauteous things,
I laughed to scorn each feeble counterfeit,
And cried to the sweet image in my soul
How much more bright thou wast and beautiful.
Little I thought the love that brought me blessing
Brought sorrow here to thee.
F LERIDA .If it brought sorrow,
That grief was consecrate and offered up
To aid thy noble venture. 'T was my hope
That thy young sinews in a dreamless sleep
Might knit them for the battle, while my vigils
Kept trimmed thy spirit's lamp; so might thy valour,
Fed on my sorrow's riches, greet the morn
With more unsullied and resplendent rays
Than her own shining, and the wondering world
Should praise thy happy courage, little knowing
The hidden might of love that nerved thy arm
And taught thy blithe soul singing.
P ALMERIN .Flerida,
Though I should give thee all my life and blood,
My honour and immortal soul, 't were nothing
But what thou gavest first, and rendering all
I yet should owe thee this sweet privilege
Of having lived and loved thee.

Re-enter Nurse .

Nurse .Loitering still?
Come, come, the supper's spoiling.
F LERIDA [ pointing to the castle ]. Wilt thou take
Possession of thy poor inheritance?
P ALMERIN . 'T is poor indeed, a case without its jewel,
Till thou be mine.
F LERIDA . Thou hast my plighted troth.
P ALMERIN . Ah, pay the debt! my heart has waited long.
F LERIDA . No priest is in attendance, Palmerin.
Till one be duly summoned and arrive
I am my father's hostage in thy hands
Entrusted to thy love and chivalry.
P ALMERIN . I long have bivouacked, lady, 'neath the stars,
And I shall better rest beneath their light
While I am still an exile from thy bosom.
Let me not change the canopy of heaven
Except for heaven's self. Before this shrine
I watched my virgin arms on the proud eve
Of my first knighting. On this prouder vigil
Let me hold silent session with my heart
Again before this altar, keeping watch
Over this sweeter boon, my virgin bride
To be to-morrow mine.
F LERIDA [ to the Nurse ]. Bid them bring hither
Some wine and morsels for Sir Palmerin,
And torches, and their lutes and dulcimers.
[ Exit Nurse .
P ALMERIN . We sup to-night beneath a lovers' moon
Not quite at full.
F LERIDA .We sup beneath the stars
That never wane, though nether storms obscure
Their revolutions to the wistful eyes
Of mortals. So our love shall never wane
But when its fame on earth is heard no more,
Translated to the language of the skies,
It yet shall be a parcel of that joy
Which saves the world from baseness.

Attendants with torches and musical instruments enter, while others bring in supper.

S ONG

Come make thy dwelling here
Where all sweet pleasures are.
For many a weary year
From mates and lady dear
Thou wanderest afar.
Come make thy dwelling here
Beneath love's golden star.

The battles' stress is o'er
That should thy worth approve.
Oh, follow now no more
The ruby star of war
That onward still must move.
Fixed shines above thy door
The golden star of love.

P ALMERIN .Flerida,
What solace had thy orphaned life for thee
In this fair desert? Was not Ulric here
To lend thee succour?
F LERIDA .He was here, alas!
P ALMERIN . Alas?
F LERIDA .Thas he proved false.
P ALMERIN .I marvel. Speak.
F LERIDA . Ah me! A sorry tale. — He said the castle
As to my father's second came to him;
That I within it, as the world would think,
Must be his also. Doubtless thou wast dead,
Else tidings would have come. To save my honour
I must not wait, but bend to be his wife.
P ALMERIN . Said Ulric so, that brave and trusty man?
Only some madness could transform his soul
So utterly.
F LERIDA .I question not the cause,
I mark the deed and brand the infamy.
When he had spoken and beheld me firm,
The coward threatened force. We were alone
And he unarmed; it was a woman's body,
Not a man's soul, he thought to cope withal.
My father's sword was hanging by the wall:
I drew the blade, and as he rushed to snatch it
Transfixed his body; at my feet he fell
Writhing; I cried for help. Then Gunther came
And the young Hugh. I published his offence,
And when the torment and the fever passed,
For my poor strength had left some breath in him,
Fettered and manacled they brought him forth
Into the hall, before my men-at-arms
And the red witness of his own foul blood
Staining the hearthstone; and I spoke and said:
" Unhappy Ulric, traitor to thy liege,
Whom on the cross thou tookest oath to serve,
Thou shalt await his sentence. When he comes
He shall know all and will decree thy forfeit.
But if he come not, thou shalt live in chains
Till God and death restore thy liberty. "
P ALMERIN . Is he still captive?
F LERIDA .In the northern tower,
Whence Hugh but now, whom Christian charity
Prompts oft to visit our sad prisoner,
Saw thee approach. Ulric has heard the news.
P ALMERIN . Let him be brought.
F LERIDA [ to the men-at-arms ]. You hear my lord's command. —
Ah, Palmerin, when Christ returns to earth
Only the good shall welcome him; thy coming
Will bring thy faithless servant also joy,
For I foresee thy sentence.
P ALMERIN .To be merciful
Is to be truly just. — Has he not mended
Or purged his sin in his captivity?
F LERIDA . Indeed, it seems he has. Hugh and the friar
Who daily visits him both bring report
Of many pious and profound discourses
With which he charms away his solitude.
God grant his wisdom may outlive its cause
And not forsake him now. For, see, he comes.
Re-enter the men-at-arms , leading in U LRIC , bound .
P ALMERIN . Ulric, it wounds my soul to see thee thus.
Undo the fetters.[U LRIC is freed .
What has chanced I know.
'T were idle to rehearse that history.
Only one matter, past my understanding,
I ask thee to confess: how came thy soul
To harbour thoughts so opposite to thine
And do thy nobleness this injury?
U LRIC . Alas! The saddest sorrow of the world
Is not foul sin, but that resplendent virtue
That yet brings evil on. 'T was nothing base,
Hideous, ignoble, or contemptible
That led me to my ruin, but the might
Of perfect sweetness, joy unthinkable,
And infinite deserts; it was the hunger
For what most truly merits to be loved.
'T was love, my lord, the love of Flerida
Which, in thy bosom waking heaven's choirs,
Brought hell into my breast. Was not her face
As fair for me as thee to look upon?
Was not her silver voice and high discourse
Potent with reason on my listening ears?
Why was it criminal in me to love
And in thee lawful? For we both were men,
And I the elder and the better born,
Who might have wooed and won her worthily.
Yet with no other crime than lucklessness,
Because her father and her constant soul
Lit first on thee, the tempest of my love
Wrecked honour, faith, fame, life, and hope of heaven,
Which, had the winds blown gently on my fortunes,
The self-same love had blessed and glorified.
P ALMERIN . I pity thee; but summon not thy love
To shield thy shame. Hadst thou been fortunate,
Should I with cunning and outrageous hand
Have moved against thy peace? Nay, by God's mercy,
I should have gone my way, and patiently
In other worlds have justified my soul;
For sorrow more religiously than love
Counselleth mortals.
U LRIC .Ah, I loved too much.
P ALMERIN . Thou sayest well, Too much. Not that thy love
In sweetness or in silent potency
Of grief surpassed or mine or any man's.
But finding in thy spirit no defence,
Love fattened on thy reason, drank thy will,
And quite consumed thy being; growing great,
It left thee little, as, when a fiery wind
Devours the stubble, both together perish
And all goes out in shame. Water these ashes,
Ulric, with warm and consecrated tears,
That haply some new sweetness thence arise
Beneath another heaven. Though thou leave us,
Our hearts will not forget thee. In thy prayers
Remember us, and use thy freedom well.
U LRIC . I thank thee for thy counsel and thy mercy,
Generous knight. Not comfortless I go,
For not thy lips alone, well catechised,
Forgive me, Palmerin: thy heart forgives.
I would not use my freedom now to rove
But to ascend. A cloister's little earth
Is covered by the whole wide firmament.
Being changed within, there let me live and die
An anchorite, that I may outwardly
Become a breathing symbol and a hand
Pointing to heaven, become a lamp of love
And keep my spirit's sacrificial flame
Burning before the altar, till my blood,
Its living oil, to light refine its fire
And rise, by prayer transmuted, from this world.
And at this parting let me bless thee, lady,
Angel God chose to save me from my sin
Even by tempting me. For in the storm
And fury of my madness thy calm eyes
That unaware had called me, as the moon
Summons the leaping sea to follow her,
Soon with quick bolt and soul-transfixing ire
Awaked me from my dream. For who was I,
That I should lift me to so pure a being
Except in adoration, as the wave
That mirrors in its slimy breast the glory
Of some clear star, soon, grateful for that light,
Sinks, moaning, to its restless element.
So moaned I, in my dungeon's loneliness
And in that larger solitude, the world,
Where now no joy remained to beckon me.
I cried to Nature, questioned sun and moon,
At my cell's bars celestial visitants;
Yes, I importuned my own soul to tell me
Whether a man be born to look on good
And straightway perish. Long I questioned fate.
No answer came from heaven to my doubts;
But with the Spring and the reviving note
Of thrush and swallow, and the ploughman's song
Heard from the fields, I somewhat calmed my griefs,
And my heart took new counsel. Though a wave
Mirror a star and sink into the sea,
It cannot suffer; though the summer fade
It shivers not at autumn; though the spheres
Crash back to chaos they lament it not.
Never the blasted deserts of the moon
Mourned their lost verdure or implored reprieve.
But my loud heart-beats, self-contemplative,
Note their own weariness, and death foreknown
Makes life a grim and halting agony.
Yet something in me rides on circumstance
And swims the tide of change. How should that die
Which knows its dying, or that pine and fade
Which marks the shrivelled leafage of the year?
Can ashes choke that voice to lying silence
Which once has said: I love? That truth must live
Though unremembered, and that splendour shine
Though all eyes close in sleep. When first I loved thee
Something immortal darted through my flesh
And made me godlike. Henceforth all of me
That loved thee, all of thee my puissant love
Hedging with worship rescued from the void
Lives in eternity, a part of God,
Who feeds with earth's unquenchable desire
The skies' ethereal altar, to whose flame
Passions are brands, thoughts smoke and frankincense,
Nations and worlds unceasing hecatombs.
There, growing one with all that ravished me,
I also burn and never cease from love.
Farewell, sweet lady. For thy pity thanks,
More thanks for thy disdain, but for thy beauty
Infinite thanks, for it was infinite
And, while it blinded most, unsealed mine eyes.
F LERIDA . Go in God's peace, and may he grant thee grace
To see him always.[ Exit U LRIC .
Palmerin, this night
Brings me a surfeit and a cloud of joys.
I cannot seize them all. But many days
Will suck their drop of sweetness from this store,
And many silent nights and absences
Feed on its garnered bliss.
Nurse .What, prattling still?
You'll catch the ague and the chill of the fens,
And lolling in the moonlight, talking love,
You'll die before the wedding. Come away.
Palmerin. Sleep, Flerida, falls sweetly on a heart
Freed from long doubt and anguish. Take thy rest.
Palmerin watches at thy castle gates
And all is well. Sleep, sleep, my Flerida.
F LERIDA . Let me gaze long upon thee ere I go,
Lest, waking, I believe that I have dreamt
And weep anew and be disconsolate.
P ALMERIN . Ah, were I only lying by thy side
At the first checking of thy peaceful breath,
To chase away that doubt before it grieved thee
And with two kisses close thy dreamful eyes!
Alas that we should meet to part, and love
Only to be divided!
F LERIDA .Palmerin,
Though thou hast faced the world and conquered it,
Thy noble heart is young. My briefer years
And lonely life have farther traced the thread
By which fate guides us through this labyrinth.
To learn to part, to learn to be divided,
We meet and love on earth; to learn to die
Is the one triumph of the life of prayer.
Shall love be but to hug the mother's breast,
Or else run wailing? To prolong for ever
The lovers' kiss, or pine for blandishments?
Is the Lord's body but unleavened bread
Weighed with a baker's measure, or his blood
Wine to be drunk in bumpers? And shall love
Be reckoned in embraces, and its grace
Die with the taking of its sacrament?
These be but symbols to the eye of time
Of secrets written in eternity.
The love that fed must wean the nourished soul,
And through the dark and narrow vale of death
Send forth the lover lone but panoplied.
Else life were vain and love a moment's trouble
That, passing, left untenanted the void,
As summer winds a-tremble in this bower
Might waft some fragrance from a rifled rose
Through yonder gulf of night and nothingness.
Hadst thou in battle fallen, were my soul
Bereft of Palmerin? Or had I languished,
Would Flerida have mocked thy constancy?
Banish such thoughts, dear master of my being,
From thy immortal soul. These fond enchantments
Make the sweet holiday and youth of love;
They are a largess and bright boon of heaven
To sweeten our resolves. But youth will fade,
And death, not mowing with a two-edged scythe,
Will cut down one and leave the other bowing
Before the wintry wind. Arm not with terror
That swift, unheralded, insidious foe,
But let him find our love invulnerable
And our heart's treasure in eternal hands.
My lord, good-night. To-day my joy is full,
To God I leave to-morrow. Fare thee well.
P ALMERIN [ kneeling to kiss the hand she gives him ].
Good-night, my own. May angels guard thy slumber —
F LERIDA . And share thy vigil —

P ALMERIN .Till my angel come.
[ Exit F LERIDA , followed by her household. As they go, some voices repeat snatches of the previous song: " Come make thy dwelling here, " etc.

P ALMERIN [ alone ].
No, Palmerin, unbuckle not thy arms,
Guard well thy lady's sleep.
Haply the wizards of the wood have charms
To make a virgin weep.

All goblin sprites and fairies of the trees
That lead their impish dance
Will spy thy mantle's cross; their blood will freeze
To see a Christian lance.

Hark! the old croaking frogs, and the far din
Of crickets in the field.
They bid me welcome home. " Hie, Palmerin,
Once of the argent shield,

" What's this device? Is Flerida this flower,
And these five pearls her tears,
Shed for thy love in her disconsolate bower
These five unhappy years?

" Those sable bars athwart a field of gules,
Are they thy nights and days
Spent mid bluff captains and rash drunken fools
In marches, bouts, and frays? "

Ay, ye chirp well, if I divine your note,
Ye civil, croaking elves!
A foolish master have your fields and moat
And your so learned selves.

Nothing he knows of wit or bookish lore
And nothing of the fair,
Only to break the brutal front of war
And half repeat a prayer.

Yet this sad wight is he, as fairies know,
Whom Flerida hath blest,
Soon locked within her arms. She long ago
Was locked within his breast,

Celestial Flerida, whom all the hours
Adorning from her birth
Have crowned the queen of stars, the queen of flowers,
The queen of maids on earth.

Her peerless heart hath chosen him her lord,
The rare intrepid maid,
Whose tender hand incarnadined a sword
Lest he should be betrayed.

Out of his nothingness her bounteous love
Bred all his poor desert
As God lent to the void he made us of
His image for a heart.

Like to the dateless dark before our birth
Are those five winters past,
This vigil like the twilight life of earth,
Then paradise at last

And changeless love. How in the paling skies
The star of morning burns!
Open, heaven's gates! Eternal sun, arise!
Sir Palmerin returns.