Classic Poem

She rose up from the golden feast,
And her voice rang like the sea;
" Sir Knight, put down thy glass and come
To the battlement with me.

" That was a charmed wine thou drank'st,
Signed white from heaven, signed black from hell.
Alas! alas! for the bitter thing
The sign hath forced thy lips to tell! "

" Ho here! Ho there! Lift up and bear
My choice wine out, " she said;
" That which hath brand of a clasping hand,
And the seal blood-red. "

" Ho here! Ho there! To the castle stair
Bear all that branded wine;
And dash it far, where the breakers are
Whitest, of the brine!

" Let no man dare to shrink or spare,
Or one red drop to spill;
Of the endless pain of that wine's hot stain
Let the salt sea bear its fill.

" O woe of mine! O woe of thine
O woe of endless thirst!
O woe for the Amreeta wine,
By fate and thee accurst! "

The knight spake words of sore dismay
But her face was white like stone;
She saw him mount and ride away,
And made no moan.

The wind blew east, the wind blew west,
The airs from sepulchres;
No royal heart in all of them
So dead aShers!