I FOUND him openly wearing her token;
I knew that her troth could never be broken;
I laid my hand on the hilt of my sword,
He did the same, and he spoke no word;
He faced me with his villainy;
He laughed and said, “She gave it me.”
We searched for seconds, they soon were found;
They measured our swords; they measured the ground:
They held to the deadly work too fast;
They thought to gain our place at last.
We fought in the sheen of a wintry wood,
The fair white snow was red with his blood;
But his was the victory, for, as he died,
He swore by the rood that he had not lied.
Walter Herries Pollock.
THE DEVOUT LOVER.
IT is not mine to sing the stately grace,
The great soul beaming in my lady’s face;
To write no sounding odes to me is given
Wherein her eyes outshine the stars in heaven.
Not mine in flowing melodies to tell
The thousand beauties that I know so well;
Not mine to serenade her ev’ry tress,
And sit and sigh my love in idleness.
But mine it is to follow in her train,
Do her behests in pleasure or in pain,
Burn at her altar love’s sweet frankincense,
And worship her in distant reverence.
Walter Herries Pollock.
BALLADE OF LOVERS.
FOR the man was she made by the Eden tree,
To be decked in soft raiment and worn on his sleeve,
To be fondled so long as they both agree,—
A thing to take, or a thing to leave.
But for her, let her live through one long summer eve—
Just the stars, and the moon, and the man, and she—
And her soul will escape her beyond reprieve,
And, alas! the whole of her world is he.
To-morrow brings plenty as lovesome, maybe;
If she break when he handles her, why should he grieve?
She is only one pearl in a pearl-crowded sea,—
A thing to take, or a thing to leave.
But she, though she knows he has kissed to deceive,
And forsakes her, still only clings on at his knee—
When life has gone, what further loss can bereave?
And, alas! the whole of her world is he.
For the man was she made upon Eden lea,
To be helpmeet what time there is burden to heave,
White-footed, to follow where he walks free,—
A thing to take, or a thing to leave;
White-fingered, to weave and to interweave
Her woof with his warp, and a tear two or three,
Till clear his way out through her web he cleave,
And, alas! the whole of her world is he.