Classic Poem

Where have you been? What have you seen?
What is it you have done?
What is the strange and mighty thing
That you have looked upon?

The sign was set — the crowing cock —
And we are comrades three.
The trusty skipper pledged his word
To sail you out to sea.

Your brow is wet with sweat and blood!
Your pistol's gone — your eye
Is calm with an exalted light —
But yet at noon you die.

You might have lived your life out, lad,
And led your pack of men.
You that were thief to twenty towns
Shall never steal again.

My friends — I heard the crowing cock.
Now I must die at noon.
But what it was I did last night
I could not leave undone.

My friends — I saw your shining sail
When I rode up the hill —
And over against, the Northern Star
With its strange hypnotic will.

I said, " I've three hours more to ride
Ere I set sail from shore,
And by the Northern Star I know
I have one errand more."

I killed one man in Southern Woods,
Sank one in Western Weir;
Dragged one East to Pauper's Yard
With never a decent tear.

And two of them were cruel thieves —
False men — it served them well.
The other was a gentle lad
And what the reason that I had
I cannot ever tell.

But now the North Star walked alone
With its fierce hypnotic eye.
It shone like a polished pistol held
In the black glove of the sky.

" Perhaps three murdered men ride North
For one last fight with me.
There is some menace in the air,
Some spell — some mystery."

" There's something left for me to do.
By that unearthly fire,
I seem to feel a binding spell
An aching deep desire."

Ghosts do not carry pistols, lads,
And if they fought with Hell —
Why I had hate and I had wrath,
And I could match them well.

But if they fought the better, lads,
And I should die that night —
Then I should fall in Northern Woods
Out in the full moon's light.

Then North and South and East and West
We would like brothers lie
And you would have four murdered men
To box your compass by.

I rode an hour North, through woods,
A road I did not know.
The moonlight lay on leaf and tree
Like an ethereal snow.

Deep in a forest glade I saw
A house all glittering bright
Its pillars and its roof seemed carved
Of pale unearthly light.

The hemlock trees in silver dressed
Sagged heavy on the ground.
The moss grew thick around the steps
And the deep grass grew round.

A holy splendor in the grass
Lay like a bridal veil —
It seemed a house deserted long
In a forgotten tale.

From solemn treasuries of light
From ornaments in grass and tree
I could have filched you wreaths of glass
And garlands of bright filigree.

I could have gathered apples of gold
Set in caskets of crystalline.
I could have brought you great white pearls
And chrysoprase and emeralds green.

" No! No!" I cried, " Ye treasures bright,
I should go mad if this should be!
I will let no goblin light
With silver fire master me.

" No! No!" I cried, " Ye jewels frail,
Ye garlands of light filigree!
I have been thief to twenty towns
But never thief to Faery.

" And three Dead Men ride North to-night
And they will test me well.
Though not with pistols will they fight
But with the powers of Hell."

I gripped my pistol by the butt,
I struck the heavy door.
I flung it wide and moonlight lay
In silence on the floor.

Heavy the great door opened wide
In that chill house alone.
I breathed a strange and ancient air
Of twenty years agone.

There was some strange majestic power
That drew me up the stair.
No pistol, lads, could help me now,
Nor yet — I think — a prayer.

Friends, when I climbed that stair I knew
My fateful hour was on.
Yet what it was I did last night
I could not leave undone.

Ghosts do not carry pistols, lads,
And if they fought with powers of Hell,
Why I had hate, and I had wrath,
And I could match them well.

I opened wide the stout barred door,
And what therein did see?
Oh, there was pomp and there was pride
And solemn revelry.

The chamber seemed all built of light.
The bed — it seemed a throne.
And wrapped in satin mantle white
A Lady lay alone.

And I could hardly bear the sight,
Such loveliness was there.
For I beheld a Lady dead
Upon a snow-white bier.

A cushion made of velvet white
Was laid beneath her head.
With silver lily and with rose
It was embroidered.

She lay all richly swathed around
In satin lily white.
Her braided hair in coils crowned
A brow supremely bright.

Her small hands folded on her breast,
So exquisite and still,
Seemed like the North Star charged with life
And supernatural will.

A great white pearl lay on her breast,
A circlet on her brow.
And I could see she once was proud
For she lay proudly now.

" Oh, who has left this Lady Bright
That I find lying here —
Alone in this great House at night
And not a neighbor near!

" Where is her Mother? Where is her nurse?
What watchman on the lawn?
Is there no kinsman who could guard
Her loveliness till dawn!

" A burial yard is close at hand.
Perhaps they brought her here
From some far town to an old home
That leaves not any heir.

" Soon the black hearse with four tall plumes
Will bear her from the door.
Soon shall the sexton scatter dust
And she return no more.

" Does no one watch, does no one care —
What evil men might do?
The cock may crow, the ship may sail,
I'll watch to-night with you."

Oh, she was lovely! Lovely — lads!
And like a child at play.
Such brightness and such awe profound
Might be on Judgment Day.

I seemed to be a child, my lads,
Upon my Mother's knee.
And there I listened to her songs
From ancient minstrelsy.

Tales — Tales she told! Oh she told tales
Of elfin wonder bright.
And well I knew — yet did not know,
How wise I grew that night.

Stately she was yet wrapped around
With music elfin gay,
Like some young maid in garlands crowned
Decked for the Queen of May.

I had looked on death three times, my lads,
With its harsh rasping cry.
And men had groaned and men had cursed
And this it was to die.

Swollen throats and angry eyes
And harsh and bitter breath!
But now I knew what life might be
Seeing that this was death.

Seeing that this strange thing was death
And yet — how it was birth.
How charged with will, with lovely powers
Of immemorial mirth.

Oh, lovely! lovely was she, lads!
In innocent revelry!
It was as if a snow-white ship
Sailed stately out to sea.

And while I gazed I seemed to see
A strange, a lovely thing.
A blossoming tree shone in the air
With the fresh powers of Spring.

And Spring itself like a harp of gold
With many a glistening string,
Where music with soft plumes did move
And with the kiss of death and love
Like happy birds did sing.

I said — " I have one hour to ride
Before I sail away.
If I am not there by crow of cock
I'm hanged at noon to-day.

" But though I am a treacherous man
I have one thing left to do.
And I — my Lady and my Queen —
Choose one hour's faith with you."

And now, lads, since I die at noon,
It seems not death to me.
But as if in some great snow-white ship
I sailed out on the sea;
With elfin music blowing round
And spirit revelry —
And a Lady for a Figurehead
In glistening white and rosy red, —
A Lady — raised up from the dead —
Oh, a Great Lady she!

Bury me in the Northern Woods
While the full moon still is on.
Lads, what it was I did last night
I could not leave undone.

And I shall get up I think — sometime,
When the great Spring Powers move,
Because of the hour I spent with her
And faith and pain and love.

For in that hour I watched with Her —
Gay, beautiful, and free —
Three ghosts of murdered men shone out
Like blossoms in a tree.

They did not fight with pistols, lads,
Nor by the powers of Hell.
But by the grace of Paradise
They fought exceeding well.