Classic Poem

I

" I will ride to the forest, " Sir Graelent said;
" The town walls shut me in, but the forest has clean air,
And trees have cool branches, but here are bitter tongues;
I will ride to the forest, I shall be alone there. "

He rode to the forest — he clattered down the street
Between old houses leaning close and high,
And faces at the window-ledge thrust out to greet him,
And mocked him in his worn coat riding by.
He came where the highway twines through field and vineyard,
A ribbon white and dusty, mile on mile;
The men raised their heads from working in the vines,
And had their word about him and a smile;
He came to the wood with the trees set out in order,
And old women tending their sheep along the border
Stopped knitting and looked up to watch him go;
He turned upon a narrow path that promised to be lonely,
And rode till he reached green quiet broken only
By near-by waters moving smooth and slow.

It was a magic river that wound among the trees,
Through a young glade sunlit with silver flame;
Red flowers through the carpet rose up in the green,
And one was waiting there till Sir Graelent came.
She was a queen of fairy, and she wore a blue gown,
It was for her the red flowers rose up at her feet,
Her slender hands were clasped, and two golden braids
Forward o'er her shoulders were falling to her feet.
He had not thought to find her, he drew a sudden rein,
Spellbound he looked on her, and saw how she was fair.
Whence she came he knew not, he never asked her name;
She was a queen of fairy, and she waited for him there.
She was a loveliness beyond words to measure,
She was a last and absolute delight,
More than you could dream of, of beauty in the world,
Was standing in the glade, in the enchanted light.
Her eyes were unstartled and her brow serene,
She kept a pleasant secret till he should come;
What had he asked, and her beauty was the answer?
Spellbound he looked at her, and his lips were dumb.
They met, as in a dream two strange hearts meeting,
Know they are strange, yet cannot feel surprise —
Come from afar, yet need no other greeting
Than silence of the lips and wonder of the eyes.
Down from his steed where the glade begins,
He stood by the bridle, too happy to draw nigh,
Flutter of a leaf he heard among the branches,
Whisper of the smooth river-water slipping by.
Long, long ago she knew that he would come,
Now that he was silent, she did find it strange;
Lightly he breathed, and stirred nor foot nor finger
Lest the charm should break, or the dream change.
Though she was beautiful beyond speech to tell of,
It was not her body whereon his wonder dwelt;
It was not her face, though, as she stood before him,
Light of it and color within his blood he felt.
These were but instruments her magic was playing on,
To call up another beauty in his soul;
He looked at her, and marveled at the world unrolling
Within him, horizons of delight unroll.
Like one who listens to a noble singing
When the tide of music lifts the heart along,
Tone after tone earth-wrought but heaven-reaching,
And one forgets the voice, and goes with the song —
So in the glade, in silence gazing
On the tall strange woman beside the forest stream,
Not her slender body his eyes found wonderful;
He looked at her, and saw not her, but saw a dream.

" Long have I sought for you! " he said, and suddenly
Remembered he had never sought for her at all;
Quietly she heard him: she turned her stately head
And listened, as though to hear a far-off call.
" Long have I waited for you, " she answered slowly,
She listened again — " yet I must leave you soon " ;
She watched his eyes, and saw the quick pain there,
" Love with us, at daybreak now, will die ere noon!
Easy in your words and open on your lips
Will you waste your dream, not hold it in your heart;
You will waste my beauty, I will wait no more,
And empty will the forest be when I depart. "
" Let me be silent then, " he cried, " do you but stay;
Leave words for desire, but never love be spoken! "
Faintly she smiled, " We shall be happy for a day,
Then you will tell it, and our love be broken. "
Sadly he looked at her, and knew it would be so;
Silence is for winter, when the frost is come,
But the high sun draws blossoms from the heart —
Living in her beauty, how could he be dumb?
" Lady, till our speech be handmaid to our seeing,
Till words give out again the eyes' delight,
We cannot seize the wonder we have gazed upon,
And half of beauty escapes our cheated sight! "
Quiet still she listened; she too was sad for him —
" Is there not a beauty that walks the world alone?
Is there no wonder that takes the heart unaided,
And sight of her, and love of her, and speech of her, are one?
Frail are the words we have — frail and fleeting;
Can they build a beauty that never will grow old?
Keep your dream in secret now, or tell your dream away!
For you have looked on beauty that cannot be told. "

II

Graelent, silent lover, came again to the town;
Bitter tongues were harmless, scorn was light to bear,
For he had learned the way now, he could mount his steed
And ride to the forest, and find her waiting there.
Oft in the market-place, sometimes in the court,
He heard men speaking of a beauty beyond price;
He held his tongue with them, but his thoughts ran before him
To the tall lady in her glade of paradise.
Then he would take the white road between the vineyards
To the cool shadows and the path through the wood,
To where the placid river whispered, and red flowers
Rose in the grass before her feet — and there she stood.
Smoothly he came to her, like the soft waters
Flowing between grassy banks without foam;
Sure he was to find her, like a chord of music
Waiting for the falling cadence to come home.

But once in Spring-time, when the sap was stirring
And secrets in young hearts burned to be said —
Sick they were of loneliness, and weary of longing
For blue eyes that passed them, or a golden head —
When bright names sounded in many a boasting
And a fair body became many a prayer,
They marked how Graelent listened without speaking,
The one happy lover among them there.
" Speak up, Sir Graelent, were you never young? "
It was a girl mocked him, and their glee was loud:
" Don't you know, " a neighbor said, " Graelent never loved?
Pride likes an empty heart, and he was always proud. "
Their words were unkind, but he thought of the forest —
" Once he gave his heart away, but his love was shame. "
He saw the queen of fairy by the quiet river —
" Once a woman loved him, he has forgot her name. "
He cried, " I have loved beyond your wit to guess at,
" I have looked on beauty no one of you could see.
Ask me not her name, no one of you could find her.
She is the queen of wonder, and she waits for me. "
" Tell us, " they mocked him, and his tongue was loosed.
Sir Graelent's heartache! They drew around to hear.
" In a glade in the forest " — one said beneath his breath,
" That's where my uncle cut fire-wood last year! "
" Grass like a carpet spread beside the river,
Sunlight falling silver on the green blade,
There she waited for me " — a rough voice shouted,
" 'Tis Bess the hunter's daughter kissed him in the shade! "
O for a word to bring before their blindness
All that her happy presence said to him!
But even as he told of her, the memory faded;
Even as he praised her, her face grew dim.
Like as a dream from which we wake in rapture,
So clear the path joy led us, height to height,
We can tell the plot of it, but cannot capture
The riding heart again, the wings of the delight;
And telling it too often, we wear out at last
The glamour we would overtake, the elusive glory,
Wear away with telling, the wonder, till at last
It is a dream no more, but becomes a story.

" Cool is the forest; here are bitter tongues;
I will return to beauty in the blessed wood! "
He came to the forest, to the cold river,
And lonely was the glade where once she stood.