Love is Enough

Huntington Manuscript 6422, ff. 1-94

Contents:

f. 1a-1e [smaller white paper]

ff. 2-8 [white ruled paper], 10-18, 19-38 Early generation drafts

ff. 39-47, 49-64, 65-74, 75-94 Later generation drafts

Love Is Enough: Partial Early Drafts

[ f. 1 a]
marked pp. 1-16 in printed text early draft [Sydney Cockerell’s handwriting]

Look long Joan while I hold you so
For the silver trumpets come arrow
O the sweet sound the gallant sight
O Giles, Giles see this glittering knight
Nay ‘tis the marshall sergeant sweet.
Hold neighbour let me keep my feet
There now your hood is up again.
Does my grip give you ought of pain.
Nay dear I see and at fair ease
O Gods body what fair kings be thine
The emperors chamberlains: behold
Their silver shoes & staves of gold—
Look hard now: for like heaven come down
The maidens go with girded gown.
Yea and the last row of them
With gems sewn into every hem
Are scattering roses een like those
About my fathers garden close.
Ah have I hurt you—see the girls
Whose slim hands scatter forth the pearls.
Hold me still Giles here comes one
Whose raiment flames down the sun

[f. 1v, much crossed out]
O sweet lids cast down
O white brow O the crown the crown
How near if nigher I might stand
By one foot I could touch his hand.
Look Joan if on this side she were
Almost my hand could touch her hair.
Ah me what is she think[ing] on—
Is she content now all is one—
And does she stand, as I thou as when
Betwixt the dancing maids and men
Twixt the porch rose boughs blossoms red
I saw the roses on my bed.
Hath he such fear within his heart
As I had when the wind did part
The jasmine leaves and there within
I saw the taper gleam within—

The Music

Love is enough: though the world be awaning
f. 1b And the woods have no voice but the song of complaining
And sky is too dark for blind yes to discover
The gold cups & daisies fair blooming thereunder
And the hill held shadows & the sea a dark wonder
And this day draw a veil over all deeds passed over
---------
Yet their hands shall not tremble their feet shall not falter
The void shall not weary the fear shall not alter
The lips and the eyes of the loved & [the] lover.
The spears flashed by me & the swords swept round
And in war's hopeless tangle was I found
But straw and stubble were the cold points found
For still thy hands were drawing me away
1bv
Through hall & street they led me a queen
They looked to see me proud & cold of mien
I heeded not though all my tears were seen

For still I dreamed of thee throughout the day

Wild over bows and stalwart swept the sea
And to the iron coast upon our lee
Like painted cloths its fury was to me

For--

They spoke to me of war within the land
They bade me sign defiance and command
I had no shame when thy name left my hand
[prob. Refrain]
--------------
But now that I am come & side by side
We walk and men cry out on thee as bride
And tremble at the image of my pride

Where is thy hand to lead me down the way

But now that thou art come & heaven & earth
Are laughing in the fullness of their mirth
A shame I knew not within [?] my heart has way

Draw me through dreams unto the land of day

Behold behold behold how weak my heart
Now all the heat of its desire is grown thereon
Pearl beyond price I fear to call my own
Where is thine hand to lead me down the way

[f. 1c]
Behold behold how little I may move any ---- heart terrible is love
O thou who knows my heart as God above

Draw me through dreams unto the end of day

Here Joan this is so good a place
Tis worth the hurry & the face
There is the empress just sat down
Her white hands on her golden gown.
While next the emperor stands to hear
The welcome of the bald head mayor
Unto the show, and you shall see
The player folk come presently—
The player king is een that one
Who wandering a while agone
Stumbled upon our lowliest {?] home
That Angust when you might not come
Betweixt the stubble & the grass
Great mirth indeed he brought to pass
But liefer were I to have seen
Your nimble feet treat down the green—
In threesome dance to pipe & fife.
Thou art a dear thing to my life
And right good have I far to seek
But hearken for the mayor will speak

[f. 1cv and d crosses page]
Still your grace bids me speak without stint or spacing
A thing little splendid I bid you to see
Early is day yet for we near the dawning
Drew on chains dear bought & gowns done with gold
So may ye high ones harken an hour
A tale that our hearts hold worthy & good
Of Pharamond the Freed who a King feared & honoured
Fled away to find love from his crown & his folk
Hark in the minster tower minish the joy bells
And all men are hushed now these near bells to hear.

Bless us ere sleeping and the day is done
How thinkest thou my love with such a tale
For lengthening or for shortening them avail.

Nay dreamland has no clocks the wise ones say
And while one’s hands move at the break of day
One dreams of years, and I am dreaming still
And need no change my cup of bliss to fill
Let them say on and I shall hear thy voice
Telling the tale and in its bliss rejoice

Love is enough: have no thought for the morrow
If ye lie down this even in rest from your pain
Ye who have paid for your bliss with great sorrow
For it once was & it shall be again

[f. 1dv]

Ye shall cry out for death as ye stretch forth in vain.

Feeble hands to the hands that would help but they may not.
Cry to deaf ears that would hear if they could
Till again shall the change come & words your lips say not
Your hearts make all plain in the best wise they would

And the world yet though waning is glorious & good

And no morning now mocks you & no nightfall is weary
The plains are not empty o song & o deed
The sea is not aimless nor the cold mountains dreary
The wind is not helpless for any one’s need
Nor falleth the rain but for thistle & weed
Ye lovers to unloved/To the lover unloved is your love the one blessing
For your tale makes the dreaming whereby yet he lives
The dreams of the day with their hopes of redressing

[f. 1e]
The dream of the night with the kisses it gives
The dream of the changing with dawning that strives
Ah what shall we say then but that earth threatened often
Shall live on for ever that een such things may be
That the dry seed still shall quicken
The hard earth still soften
And the spring bearing-birds flutter north oer the sea
That earths garden may be glorious about my love & me

Lo you my sweet fair people are these all
And with good grace their broidered robes did fall—
Down from their shoulders But this man the King
Look but a little how his fingers cling
To hers his love that shall be in the play
His love that is meseems before today.
Yea surely and her eyes cast down at whiles
Are opened not to note the peoples smiles
[f. 1ev]
But her loves lips and dreamily they stare
As though they sought the happy country where,
They two shall be alone & the world dead.
Most faithful eyes within the head
The sun has burnt and wind & rain has beat
Well may he find her slim brown fingers sweet
And he, methinketh he trembles lest she find
That song of his not wholly to her mind.
Looked how his grey eyes look askance to see
Her bosom heaving with the melody his heart loves well
His cheek is rough with the wind & rain & his hair blanched by the sun
Yet is she happy loving such an one
But now she goes & he half turning round
Remembers that his love must yet be found
That he is king and loveless in this story
Wrought long ago for some dead poets glory
-------------------------

[f. 1fv]
O rejoice for this even all sorrow is hidden
All battle is hushed for this came at least
And noone thick noontide there is but is hidden [ck. orig]
To the flowers and singing and joy of your feast
Whilom silent ye set midst the words late increases [ck]

---------------

[ff. 2-9]

[f. 2]

Huntington MS. ff. 4-48; on white ruled paper, marked "lyrics"

Love is enough that hath granted this meeting
In the bower he hath built you amid the nights greeting
Look back happy eyes to the lone way that lieth
White here with moonlight dark there with shades fleeting    
O glad hearts remember look long the torment that trieth   
The life of love longing the builder of bliss--      

When I thought of thee struggling with tangle around thee
The toils that should sicken the strife that should wound thee
I cried out on time the destroyer the smiter
O cursed faith and hope for then bounds that had bound thee
But all these have but cherished thy beauty grown brighter
For the love time of longing the builder of bliss

When I thought of the battle [?] through which thou wert breaking
The unrest of thy slumber the toil of awaking
Was there aught to praise life for the love it must fashion
Could I bless faith and love for their unholpen aching
Yet all lifes tale now seems but words of compassion
For the lone time of longing the builder of bliss

What speech on the way in your hot hearts was seething
What sweet tales enticing your lips would be wreathing
How might speech be abundant to oerflow the measure
Yet how are ye silent now breathing needs breathing
O love love relentless to hide away pleasure
Live on time of longing grow builder of bliss--   

[f. 4] Love is enough: to you lovers unloved
Came a word in my mouth, the last word to be spoken
The world mocks you striving to move the unmoved
The world hurries on lest it see your hearts broken
Then take the worlds scorn the world's fear for a token
That ye are love's chosen to build up his glory

These have his gifts and soon told is their story
The strife is all over and love every morning
Thines out like the sun like the sun with his glory
Familiar forgotten fair gardens adorning
No more unto death a defiance and warning
As when first on the fields the worn ark was abiding--

Lo through the glad street comes the conquerer riding
And for him is the air full of flowers and praises
We bless him but think of a dead man abiding
In that pass of the mountains amid the slant daisies
Turn back from the turmoil to where his white face is
For he wrought all this nor abode for [to behold it]

So ye who found love mid the thorns of his sorrow
And spared not to fold all his bitterness to you,
With no rest for today and no healing tomorrow
Though the wise and the brave never heeded nor knew you
Yet is there a people to praise and sue you
Came hither and whisper your tale to us singers

By your cold cheeks unkissed and your uncherished fingers
By your faint lips unlonged for and hot words unheeded
Grows the shadow of love great and real to its singers
(loves shadow a body and soul to)
Grows well known the salvation the sweetness they needed
Those twain with thee ___ roses drew bending
And their laugh to faint hopes, their peace unto terror

Yea ye make sweet tales of the world and its error
Of the fears and hopes beneath and above us
Ye show what to strive for despite pain and deaths terror
And evil that hateth and dim gods that love us
[f. 4v] Till we hope it the last that the evil may move us
Since one thing endureth love proved by unkindness

Turn to us and bless us ye seers amid blindness
Leave not the world weltering mid vain hope and pleasure
Since een our glad hearts may keep some loving kindness
Een our souls dulled with peace find some praise for the treasure
Of love without help without hope without measure
Turn to us who yearn to ward your sorrow and glory [next 3 stanzas copied onto 5]

Love is enough yet we too well beloved,
From you loving and loved not seek blessings unspoken
Lest at last mid the dark void fate rise up unmoved
With glad face to mock us with hard heart unbroken
And the laughter of other days be for a token
That we and all loving are drifted asunder.

Sure whiles as ye wear the night watches and wonders
Of the days of your hope and the mother that bore you
The waves of the blackness are bursten asunder.
And the light of your blessing and worship breaks oer you
As her face full of pity and love is before you
And surely your joy all our pleasure transcendeth

Sure whiles as ye follow all ways where she wendeth
Mid your tears that her feet deem but the dew of loves flowers
Mid your trembling her heart loves bliss that transcendeth
[three lines missing]

One minute breaks through the dull drift of the hours
For as wail of the westwind and weeping of showers
To the rose bloom abudding is your love to her glory

[f. 5] Love is enough: yet we too well beloved,
Of you loving and unloved loved not, seek blessing unspoken,
Lest at last mid the dark void Fate rise up unmoved
With glad face to mock us, with hard heart unbroken,
And the laughter of other days be for a token
That we and all loving are drifted asunder

Sure whiles as ye wear the night watches, and wonder
Of the days of your hope and the mother that bore you,
The waves of the blackness are bursten asunder
And the answering light of your worship breaks oer you,
As her face full of pity and love is before you;
Then surely your joy then our pleasure transcendeth

Sure whiles as ye follow all ways where she wendeth
Mid your tears that her feet deem but dew of Loves flowers
Mid your trembling her heart deems its joy that transcendeth
One minute breaks through the dull drift of the hours;
While ye know as bird's wailing and weeping of showers
To the rose bloom a budding is your love to her glory.

But we rich in loves treasures, soon told is our story--
Hands folded in sweet rest, and love every morning
Shining out like the sun like the sun with his glory
Familiar, forgotten, fair gardens adorning,
Nor more unto death a defiance and warming
As when first on the fields the worn Ark was abiding

Lo, through the glad streets comes the conqueror riding
And for him is the air full of blossoms and praises
[torn out] Bless him! but think of the dead men abiding
That pass where the darts lie among the scant daisies
Turn away from this turmoil to where his white face is,
For he wrought all this nor abode the glad morrow.

[ f. 5v] So ye who found Love mid the flames of his sorrow
And shrank not though all his red torment ran through you,
Hoped nor rest for today and no healing tomorrow
Though the wise and the brave never heeded nor knew you
Yet here is a people to praise and pray to you;
Come hither and tell of your tale to Love's singers.

By your cold cheeks unkissed and your uncherished fingers—
By your faint lips unloved, and your hot words unheeded
Grows Love's shadow a body and soul to its singers;
Grows a trembling salvation the sweetness those needed,
The man and the maid mid the roses dew beaded,
Turns their laugh to beseeching, their peace unto terror.

Yea ye make sweet tales of the World and its error,
Of the fears and the hopes set beneath, and above us,
Ye light on our hearts in despite of death's terror,
And evil that hateth and dim Gods that love us,
Till one thing we may hope for whence nothing shall move us,
Since one thing abideth--Love tried by unkindness.

Turn to us and bless us, ye seers mid blindness!
Leave not the world weltering mid vain hope and pleasure
Since een our glad hearts may keep some loving kindness
Een our souls dulled with peace find some praise for the treasure
Of love without help, without hope, without measure,
Without end through the wrack of the world rent asunder

[f. 6] Love is enough: do ye marvel beholding
This crown on my brow and these scars on my breast
And the burden I bear of the worst and the best
And the Kings cloak the rags of a beggar enfolding
And the red gold that neath the rent raiment hath rest

Will ye mock then, because folk have called us in glory
A beautiful master a lord of all fame
Given forth of all pleasure destroyer of shame
Do ye mock me returning from the land of his glory
With gifts all may praise and gifts all may blame

O fools that remember not whence I must save me
And what manifold woes on the way I must meet
These wounds in my breast and my hand and my feet
These were no gifts that my great master gave me
Yet he smiled when he saw that I counted them sweet

O blind that ye know not the array of your prison
Nor note my prison, the worlds fashion that passeth away
The weed that has cumbered me many a day
That I bore in my shame toward his glory arisen
Yet he smiled that I recked not of shame array

Yea these wounds are my loving these rags are my cumber
This crown and this gold are his gifts and my gain.
But for evil or good I account them but vain
To that gift that he gave me in waking or slumber
This own heart with its hope and its joy and its pain

Before the gate of King Pharamond

Gregory

In a fair place O son hast thou surely been tortured
Yea old as I grow do I tremble with pleasure
To think what a fair fruit we soon shall be tasting
Since the wind is so fair: art thou fain of returning
As thou shouldst be--for meseems thou art moody this morning

[f. 6v]

Oliver

Tis as fair as thou sayest and here lie our fathers
Here the battle began: we gained here we lost here
We loved and forgot: and now all I remember
For this morning meseems have we wandered world over
And won us good wealth of dreams to be dreamed
Beneath the old trees where we first were unhappy
But true it is son thou art heavy of aspect.

King

That is folly then since but of few days I doubt me
Then all shall be peace between this and death--

Oliver

Doubt nothing my fosterling fair shall our life be

Gregory

Shall we enter now forthwith--I am fain of these wonders
Most fair are the folk here and kindly of visage
And mock not new comers surely good days await us.

King

Wilt thou go with my fosterer into the city
All fair things shall he show thee--for friend for father
These wall girded acres he holds as meseemeth.
But while ye wend on with my love will I bide here
By our bales neath the tree boughs in sight of our dromund
What sayst thou O dear one are we well here a little--

Bertha

Well are we and few be not angry I pray thee
Thy face is grown anxious, and for me I am trembling
And though no land so fair as this land I have seen yet
Ah what shall I say, love, I would we had shunned it

King

It is mine and thine new love to whom shall we give it
My Oliver hearken before thou goest hence
A privy word have I to speak in thine ear.
Pardon sweet and fair father not all were well wearied
Who dwelt here with me in the days ere I saw you
But thou lief and dear friend the time draws near again
When thou wilt behold me on high oer the people
Hold thy heart in its joy as thou heldst it in trouble
And live long by my side: and now speak some word to me
That well I may wot if this is a dream
A dream of the days ere my life changed with dreaming

Oliver

What deed wouldst thou have me do here in thy city
That thou calledst me hither King Pharamond the Freed

King

Of some morning of battle thy steady voice minds me
That morn of late May in the midst of the hayfields
We were few and they many as our wont in those tide[s] was
Fair tales for the telling would be foster father
If we yet turn again and my days be henceforward
As deedless as days of those shepherding people--

Oliver

Nay send me my errand for ill omened thy words seem

King

Soon told is my bidding since so thou wilt have it.
[f. 7] Would now I were wending,
     To thy home, thine own land
Anigh the world's ending.
Who dwelleth there, spring? who looseth and bindeth
The sorrow that seeketh, the sweet love that findeth?

     Where wert thou wrought
          Soft caressing of sleep?
     How wert thou taught
          Bliss unhoped for to keep?
     Sweet were the day
          I should learn of thy teaching
     Hope that should stay
          Till it grew to beseeching
When today groweth weary come sleep, and come bringing
The Master who taught thee thy tales and soft singing.

     O sleep, O spring,
          Ever murmuring of Love,
     What will ye bring
          Of his power to prove?
     Shall it be change
          Or death, or desire,
Things familiar, things strange,
     Fair blossom, fierce fire?
O sleep are they shadows of life that thou showest
Is it good to be born Spring?--for surely thou knowest.

Five years passed away! and yet here mid the roses
It murmurs about me faint sound of that music:
Art thou voiceless beloved, yet a voice hath thy longing
It enfoldeth my life round--sweet sweet beyond measure.
he is silent, brooding.

Oliver

Thus the worse that shall be the bad that is bettereth--

[f.8]
[variant of previous page, ed.]

      Would now I were wending
            With thee hand in hand
      For nigh the worlds ending
            Till I found thine own land--
Who dwelleth there spring who looseth and bindeth
The sorrow that seeketh the fair love that findeth
      Where wert thou wrought
            Soft caressing of sleep
      How wert thou taught
            Things unhoped for to keep--
Come once again sleep to teach me thy treasure
When the day has forgotten me weary with pleasure

O sleep, O spring
    As ye murmur of love
What will ye bring
    Of his presence to prove
Shall it be change
    Or death, or desire
Things familiar things strange
    Fair bloom or fierce fire--
Sleep are they shadows of life that thou showest
Was it good to be born spring--for surely thou knowest

Five years passed away yet here midst of the roses
It murmurs about me faint sound of that music
Art thou voiceless beloved yet a voice hath thy longing--
It enfoldeth my life round what then am I lacking
So the worse that shall be the bad that is bettereth--
Once more is he speechless in evil things sunken--
Thou starest my fosterer, as strange things were before thee
Thou art fearful of him who once played round about
fear not I fear not so thus thou speak to me-
Through the boughs of the garden I followed the singing
Till I came at the last to a fair space of sward
And there she sat, there so young yet so joyous
[end of variant, ed.]

[f. 8v] And I with a new joy my heart overflowing
Watched her hands moving
As murmuring her song still a garland she fashioned--
So it was for a minute and then as I watched her
And sudden her hands fell and the flowers she was weaving
Ceased her murmuring song and with fair lips parted
With great eyes she gazed at the tangle of flowers
And forsooth her cheek grew paler, and I knew her heart beat
As of love that a sudden fear moveth, and troubleth
Then slowly she rose to her feet and went wandering
As one seeking somewhat and I ever wended
In her footsteps that blessed the new birth of the spring tide
And out of the garden we wended together
And wide oer the plain and whiles would she linger
And turn about on me the face of one seeking
Till she turned at the last and fared back to the garden
And stood gazing down at the flowers of her garland
And there as she stood came a strain at my heartstrings
I saw her face change and the cold mist swept oer me
Then again clash of arms and the morning watch calling
And the May leaves and great twisted trunk of the chestnuts
As I sprang to my feet, and turned round to the trumpet
And gathering of spears and unfolding of banners

That first morn of my reign and my glory's beginning
My fosterer have I been [a] dreamer a madman
Through these five years thou wottest of yea or a great King
Why on thee then hath fallen Gods wrath gainst the world
Hearken yet--thou never enterest that wild medley of battle
back struggling forward we fought without blemish
On my spear-tattered banner as wild as the work was
Still sweet in my heart lay the hope of that vision
And her face and her hands and her bodys uprising
Blessed all times of rest rent the battle asunder
Nor over long was it ere that land I was led to
Once again while we lay fled aback to the mountains
And again [and] thrice over again did I go there
Ere spring was grcwn winter in the meadows I met her
By the shocks of the corn and gathering the apples
Not alone was she then mid the country folk moving
Like the Queen of the world glad and kind as the sunshine
But serious and still with the eyes of one seeking
Ah the mouth of one waiting ere all was well over
But at last in the winter tide mid the dark forest
Side by side did we wend down the pass the wind tangled
Mid the trunks and black boughs made wild music about us
But her footfalls upon the scant snow and her breathing
And her blue gown a rustling was music much better
Clear was the black sky when the wood was passed through
But for curls of light cloud
                      Bitter cold the moon gleamed
[end of 8v]

[ff. 10-18 marked Early draft]

All hail my servants!  tremble ye my foes!
A hope for these I have, a fear for those
Hid in the tale of Pharamond the Freed
^Today my^ Faithful ye shall not weep to day nought shall be your need
Of tears compassionate – although full oft
The crown of love laid on my bosom bosom soft
Is woven of bitter death and deathless fame
Bethorned with woe and fruited thick with shame
This for the mighty of the my Courts I keep
Lest through the world there should be none to weep
Except for sordid loss; and empty no more gain
Of But satiate pleasure making mock of pain
There in the heaven from whence my dreams go forth
Are stored the signs that makes the world of worth
There is the waning of once mighty Troy
About my Helen’s hope & Paris’ joy
There dead beneath ^lying^ beneath the fresh dyed mulberry tree
The sword and cloth of Pyramus I see,
Here is the number of the joyless days
Wherein Medea heard no love or praise
Here is the sand by my Ariadne prest
Footsteps of the feet that knew no rest:
My Sigurds sword my Brynhilds fiery bed
The tale of ^years of^ Gudrun’s drearihead
And Tristram’s glaive & Iseult’s shriek are here
And And the grey cloister gown of joyless Guenevere

Save you my faithful! how your loving eyes
Grow soft and gleam with all these memories
But on this day my crown is not of death
My fire-tipped arrows and my kindling breath
Are all the weapons I shall need to day
Nor shall my tale in measured cadence play
About the Golden lyre of days agone
Or dim and doubtful twist the ocean’s moan
Wail out about the Northern fiddle bow
Stammering with pride and quivering shrill with woe

[End HM6422 p. 10]
[Start HM6422 p. 10v]

Rather caught up at hazard is the pipe
That mixt with scent of roses overripe
And murmur of the summer afternoon
May charm you somewhat with its wavering tune
Twixt joy & sadness.  Whatsoeer it saith
I know at least there breathes through it my breath—
[underline across page]
A faithful King and now grown wise in love
Yet many ways indeed I have to move
The hearts that shall be mine: him by the hand
Have I led forth and shown his eyes the land
Where dwells his love: and shown her, what she is
He has beheld the lips that he shall kiss
The eyes his eyes shall soften & the cheek
His voice shall change, the limbs he shall maketh weak
All these he hath as in a picture wrought—
But lo you ’tis the seeker & the sought
No picture hath she, nor For her no marvels of the night I make
nor keep my dreamsmith’s drowsy heads awake
Only about her have I shed a glory
So that she waiteth trembling for a story
That she shall play in, and tis not begun
Therefore from rising sun to setting sun
There flit before her half formed images
Of what I am, & in all things she sees
Somewhat of mine—Yea though her heart be strong
It is perchance I linger over long so single is her heart
Filled with the worship of one set apart
To be my priestess through all joy and sorrow
So sad and sweet she waits her certain morrow—
And yet sometimes although her heart be strong
You well may deem I loiter over long
The lovely sweetness of desire grows pain
The reverent life of longing void and & vain:
Then are my dreamsmiths mindful of my lore
They weave a web of sighs & weeping sore
Of languor and of very helplessness—
Of restless wandering lonely dumb distress
Till like a live thing there she stands & goes
Gazing at Pharamond through all her woes—
Then forth they fly and spread the picture out
Before his eyes and how then shall he doubt
She knows his life his deeds and his desire
How shall he tremble lest her heart should tire.
It is not so his danger & his war
His days of triumph & his years of lore
She knows them not—yet shall she know someday
The love that in his lonely longing lays
What Faithful, do I lie that one shot
My dream web is with that which happeneth not
Nay nay it is not so love lies alone
In loving hearts like fire within the stone

[End HM6422 p. 10v]
[Start HM6422 p. 11]

Fair master Oliver you who at all times
Mayst open thy heart to our lord & master
Tell us what tidings thou hast to deliver
For truly our hearts are torn & where shall we turn to
If thus the kings glory our guard and our helping
Must go down the wind amid clouds grey & gloomy gloom of despairing
[Line in middle of page]
Little may be looked for sweet lord in my story
To lighten your hearts of the load lying on them.
For 9 days the king hath slept nought at all
He taketh no note of soft words or beseeching
Dear my lords think if a body laid dead
To the lips & drawn cheeks should draw gain some little colour
And arise and wend forth as if seeking its so with no change in the eyes
And wander about as if seeking its soul
Sad with the sorrow of a wild lion caged
Even so sad is my lord and my master
Even so far hath his soul drifted from us—

What say the leeches have they lost all skill.

Nay they bade lead him to hunt & to tilting
To set him on high on the throne of his honour
To judge heavy deeds: to set hand to the tiller
And drive through the sea with the wind at its wildest
All things he was wont to hold, kingly & good
So we led out his horse and he straightly leapt on him
With no word & no looking to right or to left
And into the forest we fared as our wont was:
Fast on the King followed & cheered without starting
The hounds to the strife when the bear stood at bay
Yea through his brown hide thrust he the barbed spear
But still in his eyes was no look of rejoicing
And no life in his lips, but I likened him rather
To King Nimrod carved fair on the back of the high seat

[End HM6422 p. 11]
[Start HM6422 p. 11v]

When the candles are dying and the high moon streams inward
Through windows and luffer white on the lone pavement
Whence the guests are departed in the hall of the palace
Rode we home heavily he with his his reins loose
Feet hanging free from the stirrups and staring
At a clot of the bear’s blood that stained his green kirtle
Unkingly unhappy he rode his ways back.
Was this all ye tried or have ye more tidings
For the wall totters not at first stroke of the ram.
Nay we brought him on board the Great Dragon one dawning
When the cold bay was flecked ^with^ the crests ^[of white billows^ dawning
And the clouds lay alow on the earth & the sea
He looked not aloft as they hoisted the sail
But holding the tiller hallowed to the shipmen
In such a strange voice that I knew not scarce had it seemed stranger
If from the ship Argo in seemly wise woven
On thy guard chamber hangings some early grey dawning
Had If Great Jason cried out & his golden locks wavered
Then een as the oars ran out board & dashed
In the wind scattered sea & the sails bellied out
His hand dropped from the tiller & with eyes cast about
Dully he wended him down to ^the^ waist
And gazing about for the place of the gangway shot out
Made for the gate of the bulwark half open
[Underline across page; drawings of leaves]
And stared at the depths of the swallowing sea
Then turning round slowly went oft once again
And sat down on the deck by the side of the helmsman
Wrapt in dreams of despair: so I bade them turn shoreward
And slowly he rose when as the keel touched the side seated slowly
Gainst the stones of the key and the hawser was cast forth
Unhappy unkingly he wended him homewards

By another ways yet had thy wisdom to travel
[In what other wise did ye strive for the peace]
How else did ye work for the winning him peace—
We bade gather the knights for the goodliest telling
And the ladies went lightly in glorious array
On the old arms we armed him whose dints ^he knew^ well
That the sea air had sullied and the night dew had dulled

[End HM6422 p. 11v]
[Start HM6422 p. 12]

On the old roan yet sturdy we set him astride
And he stretched forth his hand to lay hold of the spear
Neither laughing nor frowning as lightly his wont is
When the Knights are awaiting the wind of the trumpet
It wakened and back beaten from barrier to barrier
Was caught up by knights cries & the Cry of the King
Such a cry as Red liars in the council room chamber
Might awake with some noon when the last horn is winded
And the bones of the world are dashed grinding together—
So it seemed to my heart and a horror came
As the spears met and splinters flew high o’er the field
But I saw the king stayed in the mist of his course
His horse straining hard on the bit and he standing
Stiff & stark in his stirrups his spear held in the midst
His helm cast aback his teeth ^set^ hard together
Een as one might who riding to heaven feels round him
The devils unseen: then he raised up the spear
As to cast it away but the fury flowed from him
And faintly he dropped it & sank in the saddle
And turning his horse from the press & the turmoil
Came sighing to me and I took him sore grieving
And led him away while ^the^ lists were fallen silent
As a fight in a dream that the light breaketh through
To the^tune of the^ clinking of his fight  honoured armour
Unhappy unkingly he went his ways homeward.

What bad things worse that worst in the budget yet lieth
To the high court we brought him & bade him to hearken
The pleading of the people, and pass sentence on evil
His face changed with great pain and his ^brow^ grew all furrowed
As a grim tale was told there of ^the^ griefs of poor folk
Till he took up the word and men well might tremble
As his calm voice & cold wrought death on ill-doers
Een so might King Minos in marble there carven
Mid old dreaming of Crete do justice ^give doom^ on ^the^ dead
When the world & its deeds are dead too and buried
But lo as I looked his clenched hands were loosened
His lips grew all soft and his grey eyes beheld
Sweet sights that we saw not in the void of the air
So he sat for a while & then swept his robe round him
And arose departed not heeding his people
Or the strange peering or the rustle & whisper
But as ever he gained the gate leading streetward
Dull were his eyes ^grown^ & his feet were grown heavy
Ccomplaining his lips crooned as onward he stumbled
Unhappy unkingly he went his ways home.

[End HM6422 p. 12]
[Start HM6422 p. 12v]

Is all striving over then fair master Oliver
I wot not Yea All mine I wot help who may help henceforth
I am but helpless yea surely meseemeth
He seeth me not and knoweth no more
Me that have loved him woe worth the while
That men should love aught, love always as I loved!
Mother & sister & the sweet king that scorned me
The wind of the autumn tide tide over them sweepeth
All are departed but this one the dear one
I should die as he died and be no more alone
But God’s hatred hangs round me, and the life and the glory
That grew while founded[?] in with my waning life fade now before
And leaving no pity depart through the void—

This is a sight full sorry to see
These tears of an elder but soft now one cometh
Yet well it may be that the voice of a stranger
Shall break through his dream far better than thine
From the north am I new come not much of a courtier
Rough in my speech yet ready at some things
And now have I wrought a tale in my mind
To tell unto the king: but so what say you fair master
Whose name now I mind not—shall I essay it—
For into his heart is life interwoven
In many a wise despite of thy woe

Try whatso thou wilt things may not be worser
To the king wend with me then and I on the way
Will teach thee thy part in the tale I have gotten.
Thou art trusty and helpful I would thou wert glad.

Goodly my lord this man of great honour
Up in the north hath a grief in his heart
And is come unto thee craving thy justice
What thou let him cry unanswered O King—
Ah see you?  all silent and his eyes and dreary
His lips moving a little: how may I behold it—
May I speak King dost hearken many matters I have
To deal with or death I have honoured thee duly
Ready hand in the field ready righter of wrong
Or else is it ^a false tale^ the chapmen have told us
And are thy fair robed all thou hast of a king—
Is it begging and lies that thou beardless & tender
Wept not when they brought thy slain father before thee
Trembled not when the leaguer that lay round the city
Made light for these windows loud noise for thy pillow
Is it true lies what men told me of your singing and laughter
As thou layst in thy lair fled away from lost battle

Down in the north, a great name have I held thee [inserted above “May I speak King…]

[underline across page]

X And deep in my heart a deeming[?] I have
Of what hath drawn on thee this grief & this trouble.

[inserted vertically in margin; inserted below line beginning “And leaving no pity”]
Long armed to reach ill folly and set the [?] free

[End HM6422 p. 12v]
[Start HM6422 p. 13]

The feet of the king—will ye speak or be gone
I will speak at the least whoever keeps silence
x behold how he cometh weighed down by his woe
All hail lord and master wilt thou hearken a little
These lords high in honour whose hearts are full heavy
Because thy heart sickeneth and knoweth no joy—
Is it lies how ye met in the depths of the mountains
And a handful rushed down & made nought of an army
Those tales of your luck like the tide at its turning
Trusty and sure howso slow it may it may be
Are they lies: is it lies of wide lands in the world
Sending men to lie low at thy footstool
In 5 years thence forward and thou still a youth
Are they lies these fair tidings or what is sight
Some lovesick girls brother caught een by that sickness
As the one street beggar catches the pest from his neighbor

What words are these of lies and love sickness
Why am I lonely among all this brawling
O foster father is all faith departed
That this hateful face should be set here before me—

Lo thou awakest  tell me in what wise
I shall wend back—put a word in my mouths
To meet the folks’ murmurs, and give heart to the heavy
For there man speaks to man that the measure is full
And thy five year’s old kingdom is falling asunder
Yea a fair token thy sword were to send them
Thou dost well to drawn it sweet sound is its whistle.

Thou deemst me awake then I bid thee beware
Smite them O King for my wars are well over
And dull is the way my feet tread to my grave mound—
Lord if ye have waked me I bid you be wary
Lest my sword yet should reach you wot in your northland
What hatred he winneth who saveth the shipman
From the sweet rest of death amid the waves wallow
So now with me may it fare though I know you full faithful
[next wo lines vertically written along left margin]
Both in field and in council most fit for a King
Bear with me I pray you that to none may be meted
Such a measure of pain as my soul is oppressed with
Depart all for a little till my spirit grows lighter.
Then come ye with tidings & hold we fair council
That the countries may know they have yet got a king

Come thou foster father ere thy visage fade from me
Come with me mid the flowers some opening to find.
In the clouds that cling round me if thou canst remember
Thy old loving kindness when I was a king

[End HM6422 p. 13]
[Start HM6422 p. 13v]

Blank page

[End HM6422 p. 13v]
[Start HM6422 p. 14]

How mighty and how fierce a King is here
The stayer of falling folk and the bane of fear
Fair life he liveth ruling passing well
Disdaining praise of heaven & hate of hell—
^And yet^ how goodly to us great ones up in heaven
Are such as he the waning world that leaven
How well it were that such should never die!
How well it were at least that memory
Of such should live, as live their glorious deeds
But which of all of us think ^you^ it needs
To shape the mist of Rumour’s wavering breath.
Into a golden dream that fears no death—
Red Mars belike since through his field is thrust
The polished plough share oer the helmets rust.
Apollos beauty—surely eld shall spare
Smooth skin ^& flashing eyes^ & golden hair?
Rather great Jove: the pride that holds the low
Apart despised full surely into mighty tales must grow.
Nay Pallas—for the world that knoweth nought
By that great wisdom to the wicket brought
Clear through the tangle ever more shall see
--O faithful! O Beloved home to me—
I am the ancient of the days that were
I am the newborn that today brings here
The song of, and the singer, & the song;
The right that silences the wail of wrong
The hope that springs from pleasures we forgot
I am the life of all that dieth not—
Through me alone is sorrow unforgot—
My faithful; knowing that this King should live
I from the cradle gifts to him did give
Unmeet belike for rulers of the earth—
As sorrowful yearning in the midst of mirth
Pity midst anger hope mid scorn & hate.
Languor midst labour lest the day wax late
And all be wrong & all be to begin—
Through all these things the glorious caged life did win

[End HM6422 p. 14]
[Start HM6422 p. 14v]

That was indeed the body to my soul—
Yet as the tide of ball[?] to back did roll
Before his patience: as he toiled & grieved
Oer fools and wrong done no more was he deceived
But ever knew my the change was drawing nigh
And in my mirror gazed with steadfast eye
Yet O my faithful seemed his life so fair
That all Olympus might have left him there
Till all his life to bitterness was grown
And then have smiled to see him die alone
Had I not been—ye know me.  I have sent
A pain to pierce, the his last [?] coat of content
Now must he tear the armour from his heart
And from fair seeming and his [?] pride[?] depart.
That he may find the [?] [?] soul would verily [?]
And single-hearted for his longing strive
That he at last may save his soul alive
How say [?] beloved who And shall he win ye have known
The blossom of the seed these hands of sown;
Has it been told that loved it eer
Shall this man starve in sorrow’s thorny brake
Doth Love the faithful of his heart forsake

[underline across page; remainder of writing on this page upside down]

Then strikes my hand and to the flax ablaze—
Those tales of empty left striving & last days
Folk tale of sometimes—never ^lit^ my fire
Such ruin as this but Pride and Pain desire
My Counterfeits and foes have done the deed
Beware beloved for they sow the weed
Where I the corn—they meddle where I leave
Take what I scorn cast by what I receive
Sunder my yoke yoke what I would dissever
Pull down the house my hands would build forever
[Underline across page]

That double life my faithful King has led
My hand has untwined & old days are dead
As in the moor. The sails up the mast—
Yea let this present mingle with the past
And when ye see him next think a longtide
Of days are gone by for the world is wide—
And if at last these hands these lips shall meet
What matter thorny ways & weary feet.

[End HM6422 p. 14v]
[Start HM6422 p. 15]

In this quiet place can’st thou speak O my King.
Where nought but the lilies can hearken our council
What wouldst thou have of me? Why came we hither?

^Dear lord^ thou wouldst speak of the weight woe that weighs on thee—
Wouldst thou bear me aback to the strife & the battle
Nay hang up my banner for wars are well over
Speak but a little have I not loved thee
Yea thou art Oliver I saw thee a-lying
A long time ago with the blood on thy face
When my father wept o’er thee for thy faith & thy valour
Years have past over but my faith hath not failed me
Valour Spent is my strength but my love not departed
Come hither for helping yea look long upon me
There is no more to see if thou sawest my heart

Yea thou art Oliver full of all kindness
Have patience!, for now is the cloud passing over!
O I dream in the day and the empty night season
But never more dream of my darling my love deaprting
Have patience and hearken yet shalt thou be shamed
Thou shalt shine through all shame as the sun through the haze
When the world waiteth gladly the warm day acoming
As great as thou art now: I know thee for greater
Than thy deeds dones and told of one day I shall know thee
As lying dead in my tomb I shall hear the world praising
Thy words stay my speech does the world praise the kings
Who have cast by their honour because of a woman?
But what woman wields thine? I have known thee the freest
Of all men of fame told of today or in story—
Maybe Yea as free as the slave in the market a-lying
Unsold and unworking because men buy him not
I tell thee full often as I rode back in triumph
And the roar of mens gladness went up to the heavens
Some maiden’s face saying from grey eyes unfathomed
Has moved me to thinking for whom have I done them
These deeds that men cry on, and when comes the crowing
When he that she loves with some little kiss I won him
Long days ^full^ of desire and longing and worship
And a dream that comes true with every day’s waking

[End HM6422 p. 15]
[Start HM6422 p. 15v]

Or when dames of the court made their faces full reverent
When they saw the king coming full oft I bethought me
What eyes in her face if we twain were together
She in fear and in faith I in fullness of joy
Her helper midst all men when the foemen were many
Therein I am wise as the wise now and I bids thee be wary
When thou seest a youth sink his eyes before woman:
Through the mist of a fair face he seeth his a maiden
Who cometh to meet him een now as he dreameth—

So is it and this ^love^ have I looked to befall thee
What then is a King’s longing worser to deal with
Than any mans else; shall he move women less
It may be I know not—hearken now and be merry
For a tale shall be told thee of a king of much people
A King great of fame who turned from fair women
To a dream that the night had made for his downfall
And none might help none: yea so helpless and lost.
That all dreaming by day & all dreaming by night
Drew never again that face to behold him
Woe worth the while for thy words! but what wilt thou
Thou wert ready of help when the world was full evil
And foes lay before ^thee^ and a wasteland behind
Shall a dream now undo thee, I wot not what thou meanest
In dawn of May she drew near me & kissed me
In dreams of the morning she kissed and departed

Nay but what was this dream: speak ere thou grow wildered
Thou shalt mock when thou hearest and my worship
Thou shalt ^see swept^ away like a tale by the tide & honour
I will tell it thee not—but yet one day thou shalt see her
For now am I going alone without glory
To seek her and gain her or find the world empty—
More dreadful today with ruins fulfillment
Thou yesterdays dread drifting back upon hope.

And yet who am I with my wisdom to question
My King and my leader: wilt thou once again lead me
Whereso thou goest, for what land is my country
But where ^ever^ thou abidest, what work hath God given
But to serve ^for always^ thee O my King O my son
Fair shineth thy faith from amidst of thy sorrow
And great heart thou ^love^ givest me O foster father—
Look now in my eyes and behold if they wander
Was my face any firmer in forefront of battle
I shall find her some day and my thy faith she shall know of
Yea and nought is left here to make thy life happy
Thou knowest that of late ye strove with my longing

[End HM6422 p. 15v]
[Start HM6422 p. 16]

Hold thy peace Oliver lest all speech depart from me
There is a place like this world of Gods making
A green plain it showeth from the ^[?]^ mountains top
But many a knoll there is when thou goest there
There are homesteads therein and gardens about them
And fair herds of kine and grey sheep a feeding—
And willow hung streams wend through the deep meadows
Where on the wind cometh the song of the shepherd—
A little world is it girthed by the walls of grey mountains
But these here & there have tumbled together

In old times of the world when the earth fires flowed
And as you wend up there away from the valley
You think of the sea & the great world it washes
Yet still, in ^each^ ^but^ ^but not sheep & their shepherds
Thou seest & through that one there goeth a highway
And its gorge is full filled with a thick wood & black
And what is beyond it I know not full surely
But meseemeth the sea and a city beside it—
I adjure thee my fosterer by the hand of my father,
By thy faith without stain—by the days unforgotten
[line crossed out]
Where I dwelt in thy house ^in^ the troubles beginning
By thy fair wife long dead & thy sword smitten children
By thy life without blame & thy love without blemish
Tell me in what wise that land I may come to
Hide ^it^ not away from me if under the heaven
Thou knowest where it lieth: help ere death reach me

O many such lands O my master what ails thee
Tell me again for I may not remember—
Ah I prayed give thee[?] speech & lo God hath given it
May God give me death—or awake me from dreaming—

Said I knot when thou knewst all—thy courage would fail thee
Nay nay it shall fail not, I am caught in no madness.
I shall seek and shall find—and ^thou^ help me O fosterer—
Yet if thou shouldst ask for a sign from that country—
What have I to show: once I plucked up a ^blue^ milkwort
Amidst of the meadow wherein she was wending
It was gone when I wakened; & once in my wallet
I set some grey stones from the way mid the forest
They were gone when I wakened—and once as I wandered
A lock of white wool from a thorn bush I gathered
It was gone when I wakened—and the name of that country
Nay how should I know it—but ever me seemeth
Twas not in the shouthlands ^for^ full sharp in the sunset

[End HM6422 p. 16]
[Start HM6422 p. 16v]

And sunrise the air is: & whiles have I seen it
In ^Mid^ the white drift of snow—look up foster father—
Ah woe woe is me that I may not awaken—
Yea wake lest I slap awake for my helping—
Heavy thiefs hast thou told me of dreams & of madness
Yet belike thou wert mocking, how may I avail thee—
No madness there is nay nor dreams like to dreaming
[Underline across page]
Look down on the the grass with the daisies besprinkled
On the gold hearted lilies and roses half falling
As we see feel & smell them so I in my vision
Have seen felt & smelt those that are in my dreaming

Woes me wit hath failed me & all the wise council
I was treasuring down the wind is a drifting
Yet what wouldst thou have there if ever thou find it
Are heavens gates there or fair life without dying?—

Nay thou asketh me this not as one without knowledge
For thou knowst that my love in that land is abiding
Yea woe worth the while & all wisdom hath failed me
Yet if thou wouldst tell me of her I will hearken
Without mocking or mourning if that may avail thee
O kind heart & true—thou rememberest the even
When I first wore the crown after fierce fight & mourning
Yea who shall ever forget at the dead face of thy father
And thou in thy fight battered armour above it
Mid the passion of tears long held back by the battle
And thy rent banner o’er thee mid the ring of men mail-clad
Victorious today since a spearlength their ruin
Was thrust away from them—son think of thy glory
And ^in such wise^ break through the throng of these devils
Five years are passed over since in the fresh morning
In the field of that fight I lay wearied & sleepless
Till slumber came oer me in first of the sunrise
Then as there lay my body wrapt away was my spirit
And cold & thick mist for a while was about me
But when that cleared away lo that mountain walled country
Neath the first of the sunrise een in such a fair Spring tide
As the Spring tide our horse hoofs that yestereve trampled
By the willow wrought gate of a garden I found me
Neath the goodly green boughs of the apple full blossomed
And fullfilled of all pleasure I was as I entered
That fair place of flowers; the birds sang full sweetly
But they sang not alone: these words one was singing
Five years passed away in the first of the sunrise:

Whence art thou come
Fair wind of the spring
Where was thy home
Ere the birds gan to sing

[End HM6422 p. 16v]
[Start HM6422 p. 17]

As the world drew me back from my love & departing
I saw her sweet serious look pass into terror
And her arms cast abroad--& lo clashing of armour
And a sword in my hand and my mouth crying loud
And the moon and cold steel in the door of the hovel
And thy doughty spear thrust through the throat of the foemen
My dazed eyes scarce saw—thou rememberest it fosterer
Yea Theobald the Constable had watched but unduly
We were taken unawares & called fleeing there was
Oer black rock & white snow—shall such times come again son
Full surely they shall have thou courage my fosterer—
So passed on the years, meeemeth their glory lapse
As now I look backward but yet it was not so
Full often did love bring me over to the dreamland
[underline across page]
Full oft I beheld her and noted her growing
In grace and in goodliness, true, terrors beset me
At-whiles and at-whiles would the long time pass over
Or ever I saw her yet was pleasure abiding
In my heart a long season though by nought might I name it—
Then came the hightide of deliverance upon us
When surely if we in red field had fallen
The stocks and the stones would have risen to avenge us
Dim waxed the vision amidst of that glory
And still with its waning hot waxed my desire
Did ye not note then that the glad hearted Pharamond
Was grown a stern man a fierce King it may be
Did ye deem it the growth of my manhood the hardening
Of battle and murder & treason about me
Nay nay it was love first named & first noted
When a long time went past & I might not behold her
Thou rememberest a year agone now when the legate
Of the lord of the waters, brought here a broad letter
[underline across page]
Full of prayers for good peace & our friendship henceforward
He who erst set a  price on the lost head of Pharamond
How I bade him stand up on his feet & be merry
Eat his meat by my side and drink out of my beaker
In memory of days when my meat was but little
And my drink drunk in haste mid the betwixt saddle & straw
Lo then as I noted midst of my triumph as I noted the faint smile
Of the last foreman humbled & the hall fell a murmuring
And ^blithely^ the horns he blew be glad spring prevaileth.
As I sat there unchanged to mens eyes—came a [?]
Upon me and lo she herself whom I longed for
Came with raiment a rustling along the hall pavement
Dreaming near to the nigh high seat with hands held forth a little
Till her hallowed eyes drew me a space in to heaven
And her lips moved to whisper come love for I weary
Then she turned & went from me, & I heard her feet falling

[End HM6422 p. 17]
[Start HM6422 p. 17v]

On the stones floor of the hall as though it were empty
Of all forth but us twain in the hush of some drawing
But lo all was gone and I sat there a smiling
On the faint smiling legate while the hall windows shiver
With the rain of the early night sweeping across them
Nought slept I that night, yet I saw her without sleeping
Betwixt mid night & morn of that summer tide was I
Amidst of the lilies by her house-door to listen
If perchance in her chamber she turned amid sleeping
When lo as the east gan to change and stars faded
Were his feet on the stairs and the door opened softly
And she stood on the threshold with the eyes of one seeking—
Then she gathered her gown to her girdle and wended
With firm feet through the garden and forth to highway
And so through the valley and I by her side
Till the sun ^just risen^ on her feet was a-falling
Where the pass mounted upward & the vision departed—
But from her unto to me had her hearts intent passed.
And I knew that her face was set unto to that city
And the quays where the ships of the outlanders came to
[underline across page]
Then I said she is seeking and shall not I seek
The sea is her prison wall where is my prison—
Yet I said here men praise perchance men may love me
If I live long enough for my justice to move them
And make themselves just—a man mighty a master
Of many poor folk, a man pity moveth
Love hath dealt with in this wise & no minstrel or dreamer
The deeds that my hand might find for the doing
Had desire consumed them these four years of that fight
And now time and fair peace in my heart have begotten
More desire & more pain shall my deeds pass away
Lo here for my part the my bonds & my prison.
Then with hands holding praise, yea with fierce heart belike
Did I turn to this people that I had delivered—
And the deeds of this year past shall live peradventure
But now came no solace of dreams in the night tide
From that day thenceforward; and but oft in the council
Mid the hearkening folk craving justice or mercy
Mid the righting of wrongs & the slaying of ruin
Mid the ruling a dull folk who deemed all my kingship
A thing due and easy as the dawning & sunrise
To the day that God made once to deal with no further
Mid all these a sweet & fair fair face I could fashion
And say she is seeking and shall I not seek?
Tell over the days of the year of hopes waning
Tell over the hours of the weary days wearing.
Tell over the minutes of the hours of thy waking
Then wonder he liveth who fails of his longing
What wouldst thou have son wherein I might help thee
Hearken yet—for no more a longtime I beheld her
Till a month agone now at the ending of Maytide—
And then in the first of the morning I found me
Fulfilled of all joy in the midst of the yew wood

[End HM6422 p. 17v]
[Start HM6422 p. 18]

Till lo her gowns flutter in the fresh breeze of morning
As slower and statelier than her wont was aforetime
And fair of form toward the yew wood she wended
But woes me, as nigher she came she came and at last was beside me
With sobbing scarce ended her bosom was heaving
Shamed with tears was her face, and her mouth was yet twitching
With torment of weeping held back for a season—
Then swiftly my spirit to the Kings bed was wafted
While still toward the sea were her weary feet wending
[Underline across page]
And surely that day of all wrongs that I harkenened
Mine own wrongs seemed greatest and hardest to bear—
My own wrongs and hers till that past year of ruling
Of the lighting folks troubles who recked not of my trouble
Seemed a crime and a folly—night came & I saw her
Steeling barefoot bareheaded amidst of the tulips
Made grey by the moonlight, and a longtime love gave me
To gaze on her weeping morn came & I wakened—
I wakened and said through the worldwide I wend
Till either I find her or find the world empty— —

If thou goest to find her when then hath there fallen
This heaviness on thee is thy heart waxen feeble:
I have seen her no more, and her face full of morning
So meseemeth it is since I linger here deedless—
I was bold once and hardy by love the great master
In diverse ways dealeth with the [?] of his faithful—
And yet howsoever thou [?] it ^for^ falling[?]
Tonight or tomorrow
O friend I have seen her no more and her mourning
Is alone & unhelped—but tonight or tomorrow
Somewhat nigher shall I be to her love & her sorrow longing—
But to thee friend alone of all folk in the wide world
These things have I told for a true man I deem thee
Beyond all men call true trusty; yea a wise man moreover—
And hardy & helpful—and I know thy heart surely
That thou holded[?] the world ^naught^ without me thy fosterling
Come leave all awhile it may be as time weareth
With new life in our hands we shall wend us back hither

[centered: Yes O]
Yea triumph[?] turns trouble and all the world changeth
Yet a good world it is since we twain are together—

[centered:  K]
See to it that we sail then tonight or tomorrow
Lo have I not said it thou art kinder than all men
Cast about then I pray thee to find us a keel
Sailing who recketh where since the world is so wide

[centered: O]
Well I wot of the chapmen—and tonight weighs a dromond
Bound west away first, and then to the southlands—

[End HM6422 p. 18]
[Start HM6422 p. 18v]

Since in such things I deal they know me but know not
King Pharamond the freed men now first they sail hither—
So make use thy messenger in a fair writ broad letter
And thyself make thy squire and tonight shall we shall sail
O surely thy face now is brightening & blesseth me
Peer through these bough towards the bay & the haven
And high masts thou shalt see and white sails hanging ready

[centered: K]
Dost thou weep now my darling ^and^ are thy dear feet a wandering
On the ways ever empty of what thou desirest
Nay nay for thou knowest me: many a night tide
Hath love led thee forth to a city unknown.
Though hast passed through this palace from chamber to chamber
Till in dawn & stars paling I have passed forth before thee
Thou hast seen thine own dwelling nor known how to name it
Thine own dwelling that shall be when love is victorious—
Thou hast seen my sword glimmer amidst of the moonlight
As we rode with hoofs muffled through ^waylaying^ murder—
Through the field of the dead hast thou faced to behold me
Seen me waking & longing by the watchfires light:
Thou hast followed my banner] amidst of the battle
And seen my face change to the man that they fear
Yet found me not fearful; nor turned from beholding
Thou hast been at my triumphs and known the tales ending
Of my wars and my winning though days evil & weary
This we hast thou waited and wilt be peradventure
[Underline across page; wraps under following two lines]
Abide me beloved! today and tomorrow
Shall be little words in the tale of our loving
[underline continues and wraps on left margin below the following two lines]
On the sea: strand tonight for thou ^wottest^ full surely
That the word is gone forth, & the world is a moving
[Underline continues across page]
When the last morn ariseth & thou & I meeting
^From^ lips laid together tell tales of these marvels

[End HM6422 p. 18v]
[Start HM6422 p. 19]

Love is enough draw near and behold me
Ye who pass by the way to your resting and laughter
And are full of the hope of the dawn that comes after
For the strong of the world have bought me & sold me.
And my hour is all wasted from threshold to rafter
Pass by me & hearken and pity me not

Cry out and come near for my ears may not hearken
And my eyes are grown dim as the eyes of the dying
Is this the wind moaning or is it your sighing
Is this the grey rack oer the suns face come flying
Or is it your faces his brightness that darken.
Comes a wind from the sea or is it your sighing.
Pass by me and hearken and pity me not

Ye know not how void is your hope & your [?]
Depart with your helping lest yet ye undo me
Ye know not that at nightfall she dreameth near to me.
There is soft speech between us and worlds of forgiving
Till in dead of the midnight her kisses thrill through me
Pass by me and hearken and waken me not.

Wherewith will ye buy it ye rich who behold me
Draw ^out^ from your coffers your rest & your laughter
And the fair gilded hope of the day coming after.
Nay this I sell not though ye bought me & sold me
For a house stored with such things from threshold to rafter
Pass by me I hearken & think of you not—
[Underline across page]
Stretch forth thine hand foster father I know thee
And fain would be sure I am yet in the world
Where am I now and what things have befallen
Why am I so weary and yet have wrought nothing
Thou hast been sick son but thy sickness abated
Thou art sad unto weeping; sorry rags are thy raiment
For I see thee a little now: where am I lying
On the sere leaves thou liest lord deep in the wild wood

[End HM6422 p. 19]
[Start HM6422 p. 19v]

What meaneth all this was I not Pharamond
A worker of great deeds after my father
Freer of my land from murder and wrong
Fain of folk’s love and no blencher in battle.
Yea thou wert king and the kindest under heaven

Was there not coming a Queen long desired
From a land over sea my life to fulfill

Belike it was so but thou leftst it in told of
Why weepest thou more yet? O me which are dreams
Which are deeds of my life mid the things I remember
Dost thou remember the great council chamber
O my King and the lords there gathered together
With drawn anxious faces one fair morning of August
And I in their midst who would move thee to speech
A brawl I remember—some wordy debating
Whether my love should be brought to behold me
Shes Sick at heart was I and had little patience
Hast thou yet memory yet how some hour thereafter
We twain ^lay^ together in the midst of the pleasance
Neath the lime tree by the pear tree beholding the conduit
A long long time thereafter fair things I remember
Of thy love and thy faith and our gladness together
And the thing that we talked of wilt thou tell aught thereof
We ^twain^ were to wend through the wide world together
Seeking my love: O my heart is she living
God wot she liveth as she hath lived ever
Then soon was it midnight and moonset as we wended
Down to the sea ship and the merchant folks babble
The oily green waves in the harbor there glistened
Windless midnight it was an but the great sweeps were ran out
As the cable came rattling mid rich bales mid on the deck
And slow moved the black side that the ripple was lapping
And I looked and beheld a great city behind us
By the loss of the moon as the stars were a brightening
And Pharamond the Freed grew the tale of a singer
And the land of his fathers and the fame he had toiled for
O sweet was the scent of the sea-breeze arising
And Then I slept and I dreamed in the dark I was lying
And I heard her light sweet breath & her feet falling near me
And the rustle of her raiment as she sought through the darkness
Sought I knew not for what till her arms clung about me
With a cry that was mine that was hers as I wakened

O well I remember the first streak of morning
As the ship gan to strain with the freshing breeze wind
Does it please thee or pain thee such things to remember[?]
And the past days at home we may never return to
Pray rather my heart has no memory of pain
But the hope and desire the longing ^that^ was life therewithal
Rememberest thou ought of the lands where we wended
Yea many [?] a thing—as the moonlit warm evening

[End HM6422 p. 19v]
[Start HM6422 p. 20]

When we stayed by the trees [nigh the gate of the city
In the gold bearing land] where a minstrel was singing
[above bracketed parts joined in a circle; I think Morris meant to transpose to read:
When we stayed by the trees where a minstrel was singing
In the gold bearing land nigh the gate of the city]
That tale of the fate foretold to a king
in the cradle he lay, how a woman
Should win him to love and to woe and despairing
Ere yet he was waxen to mankinds estate—
I remember the evening but clean gone is the story
Amid things great and dreadful will such things stay by me.
They shut the young king in a castle they told us
Where never came woman & never should come
And sadly he grew up & stored with all wisdom
Nor wishing for aught in ^his heart that^ he had not
Till the time was come round to his twentieth birthday
Then many fair gifts brought his people unto him
Gold, and gems & rich cloths and rare things and dear bought
And a book fairly written brought a wise man amonst [sic] them
Called the Praising of Prudence and therein was painted
The image of Prudence and what but a woman
Yea even she that that the painter found sweetest
Surely ^now^ thou rememberst what needs must come after
Yea some what indeed do I mind all the misery
Told in that tale: but all mingled it is
With the manifold trouble that met us full often
Een we ourselves—of nought else has thou memory.

Of many sweet tales that the southland folk told us
Of many a dream by sunlight and moonlight
Of music that moved me of hopes that my heart had
The high days when my love and I held feast together
But what land is this, and how came we hither?
Nay hast thou no memory of our troubles that were many
How thou criedst for death and how night death was to thee
How thou needst must dread war thou the dreadfull in battle
Of the waste of thy life when we sailed from the southlands
Of the pest in the place where that tale was told to us
And how we fled thence through the desert of horror
How weary we wandered when we came to the mountains
All dead but one man of those that went with us
How we came to the sea of the west and the city
Whose Queen would have kept thee her slave & her lover
And how we escaped thence by the fair damsels kindness
Who loved thee no less, and cast all aside for thee
Of the waste of thy life when we sailed from the southlands
When the sea-thieves fell on us and surely it seemed
As if thy life would last little longer than mine
In that land of hard gems where we found to our sorrow
Whence ^comes^ the crowns glitter thou wert once wont to wear
Where a King must toil hard in the sharp rocky crannies
And thy worlds fear was grown but the task masters-whip
And the worlds hope the dream in the short dead of night
Hast thou then forgotten how again we fled from it
And that fight and despair in the boat on the river
And the sea strand again and the bellying sails
The sickness the drought & famine that seized us
Eer the sea was oer past and we came scarcely living
To those keepers of sheep the poor folk & the kine

[End HM6422 p. 20]
[Start HM6422 p. 20v]

Dost thou mind not the merchants we sailed thenceford Northward
And this land that we made in the dusk of the twilight
Some things my head strives with but those kindly shepherds
And the merchants that come with the striped sails to fetch us
These I forget not nor yet that fair twilight
When thou calledst me forth from some dream of my childhood
To see the new land that we long had been nearing
A new land thou sawest and the last land belike—
Then I woke with a start & went forth to the prow
With my heart beating fast as if some old promise
Then first remembered, and lo many islands
Grey in the grey sea slow rolling to meet them
As we rolled in the swell of the sea
And bringing us nearer how burnt my desire
Those sheer rocks to be, on the beachless grass slopes
For surely I thought nought new I behold know
But a land that the lips of my nurse told me tales of
A land that was lying at every dreams end
In my boyhood and youth ere love had beginning
And happy I felt as if rested for ever
As the sky neared the land & yet all faded from me
When we came to the city and ^[?]^ thenceforward
Are but dreamings of sick slumber is thy earth that I lie on
In the land of that twilight come nigher ^to^ tell me
For my head is grown heavy—(but those troubles past over
Be thou thereby whence once more I remember
And sit with my maiden & tell her the story
And pity our past selves as a poor man may pity
The poor folk he tells of mid plentiful weeping)
Yet thy talk I can hearken
The same land it is and few days are past over
Eer poor now bemocked we fled from that city—
O son is it sleep that is coming upon thee
Not death O my dear one speak yet but a little—
Hearken Hush now as soft faint sound of bells over water
A sweet sound floats toward me: now of the dream cometh—
Sure it comes not from far for now first it brings speaking
O be glad foster father—

[End HM6422 p. 20v]
[Start HM6422 p. 21]

Love is [centered]
Love is enough through the dimness trouble and tangle
From yesterday’s dawning till yesterday’s eve night
I sought through the dales where the prisoned winds wrangle
Till wearied and bleeding at end of the night light
I met him and wrestled-- & great was their might

O great was my joy though no rest was around me
Though mid waste of the world we twain we alone
For methought that I conquered and he knelt & he crowned me
And the driving wind ceased & the wind ceased to moan
And through clefts of the clouds her planet outshone

O through clefts of the clouds gan the world to awaken
Cold the bitter wind piped ^&^ the down drifted the rain
And I was alone and yet not forsaken
For the grass was untrodden except by my pain
With a shadow of the night had I wrestled in vain

And the shadow of night and not love was departed
And I was sore I was weary yet Loved lived to seek
So I scaled the dark mountains and wandered sad hearted
Though wearier wastes where een sun light was bleak
With no rest on this night for my faint ^heart^ & weak—

With no rest on this night for they told I think of the a story
I have hard of a country where Love is the king lord
Where my tale shall be heard & my wounds shall ^gain^ glory
And soft eyes my tears we thought worthy to add to the hoard
Whence pleasure flows forth for the faithful’s reward.

Whence pleasure flows forth: O haste forward & listen
For the wind of the waste makes no music like this
And not thus do the rocks of the wilderness glisten
With the host of his faithful through sorrow & bliss
My lord is gone forth & he knows me for his

[End HM6422 p. 21]
[Start HM6422 p. 21v]

Blank page

[End HM6422 p. 21v]
[Start HM6422 p. 22]

O Pharamond I knew thee brave & strong
And yet how mightst thou bear live to bear this wrong
Awandering tide of 13 long bitter years
Solaced at whiles by languor of soft tears
By dreams selfwrought of night & sleep & sorrow
Holpen by hope of tears to be tomorrow—
Yet all alas but wavering memories
No vision of her hands her lips her eyes—

Woes me then am I cruel or am I grown
The scourge of fate lest men forget to moan
What is there blood upon these hands of mine
Is venomed anguish mingled with my wine—
Blood there may be and venom in the cup—
But see beloved how the tears well up
From my grieved heart my blinded eyes to grieve
And in my kindness of old days believe
[underline across page]

And lo ^hereby^ am I not justified
That from from her eyes that vision I did hide—
These years and still she lives—yea grown more fair
For unnamed hope & hidden pains that wear
The life of youth and feed the life of love.
And on the one hand nought there is to move
Her heart from pure desire: by no false dawn
To moonlit ^midnight^ ghosts may she be drawn
Mid her her ^soft^ days, and all fame & hate & strife
Are names of tales that poets feign of life.
And love alone she knows & knows not how
Mighty I am: but whereto Fate may grow
I am not taught, nor what mine own must bear
But I and ye know that the deedless days
Of such as she make sharp the all thorny ways
Till the heart faints the feet may go no more
For him is change & hope however sore
The anguish of his heart: lo on the ship
He standeth now while the grey waters slip
Past the grey sides: he nears some land unseen
And in his heart is hope & memory green

[lines that follow inserted vertically along left margin]
Forget then not my faithful while ye hearken
To bliss hold fast howeer the world may darken

[End HM6422 p. 22]
[Start HM6422 p. 22v]

Or else by night & cloud perchance he rides
And wandering what the halfseen hill’s brow hides
Spurs on amid the [?] of the wind
And hope amid its eagerness can find
Hope comes to him just bursting through the throng
Of Walplayers[?], hope springs from baffled wrongs
From sickness over come from death decieved [sic]
From lies long clung to & from truth unbelieved.
[Underline across page]

So after all then must we weep today
Een we who see at ending of the ^thorny^ way
These lovers tread a bower they may not miss
And at the door my servant Earthly bliss
There in a little while shall they abide
Nor each from each the wounds of wandering hide
But kiss them each on each, and find it sweet
That wounded so the world they may not meet
^Weep^ --Laugh for sweetness of rewarded love!
O truly mine since this your tears may move
The very sweetness of rewarded love
Forgetting not that tale ye sometimes hearken
That [?] that wings of deathless Anguish darken

Woes me the house whereof some
O truly / that tremble as ye hear
The speech of loving lips grown glad & near
Lest other sounds sounds [sic] from other doors ye hearken
The[?] door the wings of Pain undying darken:
Chambers the wings of Earthly anguish darken

[End HM6422 p. 22v]
[Start HM6422 p. 23]

Hold a while Oliver for my limbs are grown weaker
Than when in the wood I first rose to my feet
There was hope in my heart then, but now nought but sickness
There was light in my eyes ^then^ but now nought but blindness
Say farewell to thy fosterling while yet life is in me
For this farewell to thee is my last word meseemeth.
Cruel wert thou O love yet have thou & I conquered
lies down
O my son O my son
Woes me my King! and woes me for my kindness!
For the days when thou drewst me & I let thee be drawn
Into toils I knew deadly, into death thou desired so
And woes me that I die not! for my body made harder
By the battles of old days to bear all this anguish—
Speak a word and forgive me for who knows how long yet
Are the days of my life & the hours of my loathing
He speaks not he moves not yet his breath cometh softly
I have seen men adying by not thus did the end come
Surely God who made forget I not love’s rewarding
Forgets not the faithful the guileless who fear not.
O might there be help yet & some new life’s beginning!
Lo lighter the mist grows: there come sounds through its dullness
The lowing of kine or the whoop of a shepherd
The bell-wethers trinkle or clatter of horse hoofs.
Thou O God who hast known us full hard to be beaten
Wilt thou help us this last time—or what has thou hidden
We know not we name not for a crown for our striving—
O body and soul of my son may God keep thee
For as lone as thou liest in a land that we see not
When the world loseth thee what is left for the losing.
Since house must be nigh us I will fare down the highway
And seek for some helping: for they called the folk simple folk said simple people
Abode in this valley & these may avail us
If aught may it avail us to live for a little
[underline across page]

Love is enough—cherish life that abideth
For that day of his coming the deeds of her wearing
Lest ye die or ye know him and curse & misname him
For who knows mid what ruin of all hope he hideth—
On what wings of the terror of night darkness he rideth—
And what is the joy of mans life that ye blame him

[End HM6422 p. 23]
[Start HM6422 p. 23v]

That he changeth & slayeth the joy of his swing
For his bliss grown a sword & his rest grown a fire
[underline across page]

Do ye tremble for death, or the death of desire,
Ah I wend soft through the winter-tide garden & ponder
Of the rose in his glory amidst of June's fire
Of the languor of noontide that gathered the thunder
Of the dawn and its freshness, the we & its wonder
Ye may wakest no more—shall spring come to awaken
[underline across page]

Live on for love liveth & Earth shall be shaken
By the wind of his wings on triumphing morning
When the dead & their deeds that die not shall awaken
And the world’s tale shall sound in your trumpet of your warning
And the sun smite your banner called scorn of the scorning
And dead pain ye shall trample, dead Fruitless Desire
As ye wend to pluck out the new world from the Fire.
[underline across page]

Alone afar from home doth Pharamond lie—
Drawn near to death ye deem—or what draws nigh
Afar from home; and have ye any deeming
How far may maybe that country of his dreaming
Is it not time is it not time say ye
That we the ^day^ stars in the sky should see
Patience beloved these may come to live
A life fulfilled of all I have to give
But bare of strife and story—and ye know well
How wild a tale of him might be to tell
Had I not snatched away the sword & crown
Yea and she too was fashioned made for ^world’s^ renown
And should have won it had my bow not been
These that I love are very King and Queen—
I have decrowned them shall I not crown too
Ye know beloved neath what bitter dew
What punching torment of unresting day
The garden lies that bears my deathless bay
The hands that gathered it & feet that came
Neath its sweet shadow have known flint & flame
Therefore I love them and they love no less
Each furlong of the road of past distress
Ah faithful ^tell me^ for what rest and peace
What length of happy days & worlds increase
What hate of wailing & what love of laughter
What hope or fear of worlds to come hereafter
Will ye cast by my crown of bitter leaves
--And yet ye say your very heart it grieves
To see him lying there—how may he save
His life and love if he more pain must have

[End HM6422 p. 23v]
[Start HM6422 p. 24]

And she—how fares it with her—is not earth
From winters sorrow and unto summers mirth
Grown all too narrow for her yearning heart—
We pray thee Love keep these no more apart—
Ye say the sooth—not long may he endure
And her heart sickeneth past all help or cure
Unless I hasten to the helping—^and^ see
Am I not girt for going speedily—
The journey lies before me long?—nay nay
Upon my feet the duties lying grey
My staff is heavy in my hand—ye too
Have ye not slept? Or what is this ye do
Wearying to find the country ye are in
Look look how sun and morn at last do win
Upon the shifting waves of mist: behold
That mountain wall the earth rent of old
Grey ^toward the^ valley—sun gilt at the side—
See the black forest that the pass doth hide
Search through the mist for knoll and printed tree
And winding stream and highway white & see—
See at my feet his Pharamond the freed—
A happy journey have we made indeed—

Hearken beloved over long ye deem
I let these lone deal with hope & dream
Alone unholpen?  Somewhat sooth ye say
But now behold her feet are on the way
That leadeth from the city—and she saith—
One beckoneth her back hither, even death:
And who was that beloved but even I:
But though her feet & sunlight are drawn nigh
the cold grass where he lieth like the dead:
To ease your hearts O faithful of your dread
I will abide her coming and in speech
He knoweth somewhat of his wefare teach—
[underline across page]

Hearken O Pharamond why comest thou hither—
I came searching death I have found him belike
Who am I Pharamond who standeth beside thee
The Death I have sought thou art welcome I love thee
Such a name have I had but another name have I
Art thou God then that helps not until the last season

Lo what land of the world art thou lying O Ph:[aramond]
I in a land twixt two worlds nor long shall I dwell there
Yea God am I surely yet another name have I
Methinks as I hearken thy name I should wot of
I called then and thou camst from thy glory & kingship
I was King Pharamond and love overcame me

[End HM6422 p. 24]
[Start HM6422 p. 24v]

Pharamond thou sayst it I am love & thy master
Sooth did thou say when thou calledst thyself Death

If thou diest yet thy love & thy deeds shall I quicken
Be thou God be thou Death yet I love thee & dread not

Pharamond ^while thou]^ livedst what ^thing^ wert thou loving?
A Dream and a Lie and my death—and I love it.

Pharamond do my bidding as thy wont was aforetime
What wilt thou have of me for I wend away swiftly

Open thine eyes & behold where thou liest
It is little the old dream the old lie is about me.
Why faintest thou Pharamond is love then unworthy
Then hath God made no world now nor shall make hereafter
Wouldst thou live if thou mightst in the fair world O Ph[aramond]
Yea if she and truth were nay if sheand truth were not.

O long shalt thou live thou art here in the body.
Where oft but the spirit I brought thee afore time
Ah thou hearkenest—and where then of old hast thou heard it
O mock me not death or life hold me no longer—
For that sweet strain I hear that I heard once a dreaming
Is it death come anigh, or life come back that brings it—
Or rather my dream come again as afore time
Look up O Pharamond canst thou see aught about thee
Yea surely all things all things aforetime I saw them
And the mist fading out with the first of the sun
And the mountains a changing, as often I saw them in my dreaming
And the thorn brake anigh blossomed thick with the Maytide
O my heart I am hearkening then where so thou wanderest
Put forth thy hand feel the dew on the daisies
So their freshness I felt in the days when hope was.
O me me! my darling how fair the world groweth
Ah shall I not find thee if death yet shall linger.
Why grow I so glad now my life is departing
What strange pleasure pierceth my heart unto fainting
Into very words now as thy melody passeth
(1st verse)
What wilt thou say now of the gifts Love hath given
Stay thy whispering O wind of the morning speaketh
(2nd verse)
Was love then a liar who fashioned thy dreaming
O fair blossomed tree stay thy rustling surely nigher it draweth.
(3rd verse)
What wouldst thou Pharamond why art thou faintlest
Ah when will she come then to quench my desire.

[End HM6422 p. 24v]
[Start HM6422 p. 25]

I must bide here a while for my limbs are grown weaker
Than when in the wood I first rose to my feet
Lo a fair grassy bank by the highway side stretching
Let me lie here but be by me for I fear me the sickness
Falls on me again does the mist fill the valley yet
Or are my eyes meeting the glimmer of Deaths?
Still over the meadows the mist is a hanging
Yet lighter it grows and the heads of the blossoms
I can see far away, and aloft the sun gleameth
Sleep and dream O my king I will sit by thy side
Till high in the heavens the sun is arisen—
Belike on this even the sun grown all golden
Shall gleam through the grass on two deadly white faces
Lo the world is well over and where shall we waken
Did God make all this and forget loves rewarding
Yet more the mist lightens & lo I behold now
Twixt its wind lifted waves some glimpses of grey rocks
Not so dim sail the rooks over head: and the lark’s song
Is sweeter and clearer we shall die in the sunlight—
Nay do men dwell anigh here that I hear voice sound of music
Or is it indeed the death bringing rest hither?
O hearken fair sweet son hast thou might to arise now
And look ^somewhat^ around thee—for the fair sun ariseth—
Still he sleeps.  Will he waken: for wide round about us
Through thin vale of mist lies the cliff bounded valley
Will he waken too late? O would God I had dreamed it
That well I might know if this were his dreamland

(Music afar)     Dawn talks today over dew gleaming flowers
Night flies aways till the resting of hours
Fresh are thy feet and thine eyes bright with dreaming (^with dreams glistening^)
Thy still lips are sweet, and while yet the world is a listening
O love set a word in my mouth for our meeting
Cast thy sweet arms about me to stay my heart’s beating
O sweet fresh day O fair day O long day made ours
[underline across page]

Morn shall meet noon while the flowers stems yet move
Though the wind shall die soon and the sky fade above
Loved lips are thine as I tremble and hearken
Bright thine eyes shine though the leaves thy brows darken
O love kiss me into silence lest no words avail me
Stay my head with thy breast lest my breathing should fail me
O sweet day O fair day made long for our love
[underline across page]

Late day shall greet eve: and the full blossoms shake
For the wind will not leave the late trees while they wake
Eyes soft with bliss come nigher & higher
Sweet mouth I kiss tell me all thy desire

[f. 25v]
Let us speak love together some words of our stay
That our lips as they part may remember the glory
O sweet day o fair day made bright for our sake

Eve shall kiss night- and the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light oer the face of the plain
are thine eyes mid the dreary nights’ weeping
And on my mouth there lies the sweet rain of thy weeping
Hold silence love speak not of the long day departed
Cling close to me love lest I waken sad hearted.
O sweet day o fair day come again

1.     O awake son and hearken for the words well I hear now
Words of love are they, and the light mist is melting

2.      Wake up King Pharamond fight for thy dear life
For these are the hills and the fields of thy vision

3.      Lo he smileth in sleep and his wan features soften
Woes me for so softens the face of the dying

4.     Lo the sun shineth over the tops of the mountains
And lo here a maiden with sun lit hair

A         heavenly face and her bosom fit heaving
With the sweet song I heard- yet he will not awaken-

O waken King Pharamond fair is the maiden
Beyond daughters of men and she draweth nigh to us

She how she cometh in no glorious
Blue kirtled and bearing some basket of wares
The field flowers wreathing her fair hair and her bosom
With firm feet she goeth the wide world to greet-

Waken King Pharamond she stays to behold us-
Lo the dark forest high up in the pass there

The grey sloping hills and the garden like meadows
Wake up and gaze on the fates of thy dreamland-
Woes me will she pass us and he never waken?
Bide a while maiden turn hither and help us!

Poor man with aileth thee that my might may avail thee.
Why lieth he there the fair man a-sleeping
Yet he smileth as one happy nay now but he trembleth
And tears starts from his eyelids knowst thou aught of his sorrow

Happy days hath he had, and is dream nigh to death
Pray God that he passeth not een as we speak it!

Lo his hands are a moving yet he will not awaken
Wend on thou old man if thou mayst to my Father
And bid him bring hither his hay cart to fetch him-
And I will watch here, for a herb growth hereby

[f. 26]
Sleep then O Pharamond till her lips shall awake thee
For lo the sun comes oer the tops of the mountain,
And she with his light in her hair comes before him
As solemn and fair as the dawn of the May tide
Oh some isle of mid ocean when winds are a sleeping
O worthy is she of this hour that awaits her
And the death of all doubt and beginning of gladness
Her great heart shall embrace without fear or amazement
He sleeps yet his hearts beating measures her footfalls
And her heart beateth too and she knows not for why
Breath gently betwixt them O breeze of the Maytide
Wind round them unthought of sweet scent of the blossom
Treasure up all the minutes of this tide of their meeting
O flower bedecked earth: with tales of my triumph
Is your life still renewed, and spring comes back for ever.
From that forge of all glory that brought forth my blessing
I have given back the morn the greeting it gave me
And the gladness it gave me that too would I give
Were hands held out to crave it. I have called my life lovely
Overburdened with longing I knew not and     not
And yet O it is sweet and this morning meseemeth
Still sweeter it groweth- fair valley I greet you
Behold how the mist bow lies bright on the mountain
Bidding hope as of old since no prison endureth
Full busy has May been these days I have missed her
And the milk wort is open and
Yea and what lieth there by the side of the highway
Is it death stains the sunlight of sickness or sorrow?

Not death for he sleepeth: how cames thou hither
And why art thou hapless: and what hast thou with me
That I am grown hapless for thy shut eyes a weeping-
Wouldst thou have me weep with thee- if thou shouldst awaken
Would thine eyes perchance know me ah all gathered together
Are those yearning of days when glory seemed wanted
From the best of my gladness: Try warm midnights I wandered
A love need the windless sweet breath of the blossoms
And then this fell on me or the moonlit grey mountains
When the master wand swept the gusts of the gulleys
Or the cool river wave in the first of the night tale
Or my chamber awaiting my wandering footsteps
In the strangeness of dawn; or the soft death of
All things strange all things dear from grey grasp world
While my heart longed to hold them and what
That thou shouldst do this with

[f. 26v]
Shall I shrink in my shame form these flowers that I love thee
Thou art lovely and thy longing is even as my longing
If it be not for me as how may I hope it
Yet art thou mine thereby and hereby I know thee
As one hearkening a story I wonder what cometh-
Woes me do I fear thee, else should I not wake thee
For sure thou wantest tending- and now if I should touch thee
I shall love thee the more, O sweet friend forgive it
My hand and my tears since I touched thee so gently
He trembleth and waketh not- O me my darling
Hope whispers that thou hearst me in sleep and wouldst waken
But for dread that thou dreamest and I should be gone
Doth it please thee in dreaming that I tremble and dread thee
That these tears are the tears of one praying vainly
Who shall pray thee with no word when thou hast awaken
Yet O Death linger not if his heart may not love me
As how should it love me, a stranger unheard of
Yet bear
Friend I may not forbear we have been here together
Thy hand on thy hand has been laid thou trembledst
And I think now if this May shy should darken above us
And the world be all over and health should depart us
Think my love of the loss if my lips had not kissed thee
O forgive me my hunger of no hope begotten.
I who art thou that my dream I might tell thee
That with worlds full of love she drew near and kissed me
O love is all over didst thou die when I died then
And is this the delight God hath made for the guileless.
I knew thou wouldst love I knew all thy desire-
Am I she whom thou sleekest may I draw nigh to thee
O thou kissest me yet and thou clingest about me
O kiss me and wake me unto death and deliverance
Speak no rough word for a little thou loveliest
But forgive me for the years of my life have been lonely
And thou art come hither with the eyes of one seeking
Sweet dream of old days and her very lips speaking
The words of my lips and the thoughts of my heart
How could I have lived had I known what I longed for
Nay lengthen no more the years of my seeking.
For thou knowest my love as I know of thy longing
Half blind I awoke with thy kiss on my lips
And thine arms cast about me- but lo a great terror
In thine eyes

[f. 27]
Love is enough: while ye deemed him a sleeping
There were signs of his coming and sounds of his feet
His touch it was that would bring you to weeping
When the summer was deepest and music was sweet
In his footsteps ye followed the day to its dying
Ye went forth by his gown skirts the morning to greet
In his place on the beaten down pressed down
In the orchard grass where he had been lying
Ye amidst new pain ye hardened your
Ah what was all dreaming of pleasure anear you.
To the time when his eyes on your wistful eyes          turned
And ye who saw his lips move and his head bent to hear you
And born again now to his kindness ye yearned
Ah what was all dreaming of anguish and sorrow
To the time when the world in his torment was burned
And no God your heart from its prison could borrow
And no rest was left and no day nor no morrow
All wonder or pleasure all doubt of desire
All blindness are ended and no more ye feel
If your feet tread his flowers or the flowers of his fire
If your breast meet his balms or the edge of his steel
Change is come and past over nought is left for your learning
Your heart and your forehead are sealed with his seal
Look backward and smile at the thorns and the burning
Sweet rest O my soul with no fear of returning

In the garden of Gregory’s homestead
King Pharamond, Oliver, Gregory

If thou art no worser for thy work in the
God thank thee: I warrant thee little     enow
If such a dear having be the dry tree and leafless
What deed shall the green tree do in his glory?

[f. 27v]
Such horse gear as this have I never seen
Since a stark lad I was in the days of King
Way          nought is it look thou at my
When my strength is at full and my hand is grown steady
would have more guest- for a gift I would ask
A greedy old churl need not fear a naysaying
Nay my hands may not do all my heart would do for thee
Well then art thou as handy to hammer on silver
As on stubs and grey iron wilt thou win me work herein
Nay silver is scant in our world as meseemeth
Little                if we have forgotten that
Be merry old friend but thou knowst me craftsmaster
In gold and in silver and all armour lacketh
Well this way it lieth some old fl         I have
I would pray thee to fashion into sands for my daughter
Thou mayst think it a sport to know how fair I find her
But I am grown old now and ever have noted
Her good lines growing as more years clave on to her
Till at last I behold her as one              down hither
From heaven and the angels- and who should                wherefore
Why growst thou pale- hath a pain come upon thee
Nay it is past- before I depart hence
I will strive for her pleasure and think it but little
Thanked be thou but now must I lightly be gone
Fare ye well guests: and full fain I were surely
If ye ever abode here for chosen folk are ye
Thou smilest now fosterer       so it may be yet-
What after such words as thou spaked last evening
When thou wert a praising thy past life of battle
For the pleasure and softness thy striving had won her
So one boasteth alone when our love feeleth mighty
But woes me it may be that her love mighty also
Shall pass my love in the dark and neer meet it
Then may God make her happy- but for me I shall dwell her
And comfort my heart with the sweet loving kindness
Her heart may not choose to feel my hearts blessing
Despite of the blindness shall both we wend backward

Yea have I not said it why was I born King then
But to cast all before her- my crown and my
The banner my blood stained- the tale of my troubles
And the triumphs they wont and the love of my people?
Then all hail thou house of the Kings of my fathers
Hail hail ye fair streets whose stones my tears fell
When first I felt love- how soon I shall see you
How fair ye shall seem twixt the hills of the sea

[f. 28]
How is it with the Fosterer when he
Comes back that rest and peace to see
And God his latest prayer has granted now
Yet as the winds whereso they list shall blow
So is the thought of men and who shall say
Tomorrow shall my faith be as today.
My fosterling is happy and I too
Yet did we leave behind things good to do
Deeds good to tell about when we are dead
Here is no pain, sweet sleep and daily bread
No pain but something hard to understand
In that crowned work to which I set my hand
Yet patience for his longing is well won
And I shall die at last and all be done-
Such words unspoken the best man on earth
Still bears about between the lovers’ mirth.
And now he hath what he went forth to find
The Pharamond is neither dull nor blind
And looking upon Oliver he saith
My friend recked nothing of his life or death.
Knew not my anguish then nor now my pleasure
And by                        now sets his                 treasure-
In risk of twenty days of wind and sea
Of new born feeble headless enmity
I should have mocked once too great grift to give.
And is this all- my faithful you and I
Still craving scorn the world too utterly
The world we want not- yet our one desire
Fulfilled at last what next shall feed the fire?
I say not this to make mine altars cold
Rather that ye my happy one should behold
Enough of memory and enough of fear
Within your hearts to keep its flame full clear
Rather that ye, still dearer to my heart
Words call unhappy yet should praise your part
Wherein the morning and the evening sun
Are bright about a story never done.

[f. 28v]
That those for chastening those for joy should cling
About the marvels that my minstrels sing-
And Pharamond of love fulfilled must turn
Unto the folk that still he deemed would yearn
To see his face and hear his voice once more
And he was mindful of the days past oer
And still had linked them to these days of love-
And he perchance was fain to the world to move
While love looked on and he perchance was fain
Some pleasure of the strife of old to gain.
Easy withal it seemed to him to land
And by his empty throne awhile to stand
Amid the wonder and then sit him down
While folk went forth to seek the hidden crown
Or else his name upon the same wind borne
As smote the world with winding of his horn
His hood pulled back his banner flung abroad
A gleam of sunlight on his half drawn sword-
Well he and you and I have little skill
To know what              in such like things doth
Yet can I guess, and you belike can guess
Yea he almost amid his lordliness
That much may be forgot in three years space
Outside my kingdom- gone his godlike face.
His calm voice, and his kindness half akin
Amid a blind folk to rebuke of sin-
Folk gin to think that he was great and good
But hindered them from doing what they would
And ere they have much time to think of it
Betwixt their teeth another has the bit
And forth they run with force and fate behind.
Indeed his sword might somewhat heal the blind
Where I not and the softness I have given
With me indeed have hope and glory striven
In other days when my tale was beginning
But sweet life lay beyond then for the winning
And now what sweetness blood of men to spill
Who once believed him God to do no ill
To break the gate and storm adown the street
Where once his coming flower crowned girls did greet
To deem the cry come from amidst his folk
When his own country tongue should curse his stroke
Nay he shall leave to better men or worse
His peoples conquered homage and their curse-
Well forth they go his Oliver and he
One thing at least to learn what eer shall be
That whatso needless shadow life may borrow
Love is enough amidst joy and sorrow.
Love is enough my faithful in your eyes
I see the thought our lord is over wise

[f.29]
Some minutes past in what concerns him not
And us no more- is all his tale forgot-
Ah well beloved I fell asleep just now
And in my sleep some enemy did show
Sad ghosts of bitter things- and names unknown
For things I know: with shame bestrown
And ruin and death- till een myself did seem
A wandering curse amid a hopeless dream-
Yet see I live no older than of old
What tales soeer of changing time has told
Sorrow or joy no less than I shall live.

[f. 30]
Since for thee and for me the land groweth perilous-
Yea oer sweet smile the flowers, too familiar folk seem
Fain I grow of the seas                         since all things are over here

            King
So do thou, and wend on thy way to my dear one
And tell her days change and we needs must depart hence
But that all goeth well else and I will be witho’er
When a little the evening has worn unto night.
Have good heart my fosterer fair life awaits us-
Long fall the shadows, and night draws on apace now,
Day sighs as she sinketh back on to her pillow
And her last waking breath is full sweet with the rose.
In such wise depart thou O daylight of life
Loved one for the shadows that told of the dreamtide.
Loved still for the longing whereby I remember
That I was love once in the world of thy making
Love wandering about on thy blind ways confusion
The maze of the paths that yet led me to love.
All is passed now and passionless faint are ye waxen
Ye hours of blind seeking full of pain all forgotten
If it were not that een now her eyes I behold not
That the way lieth long to her feet that would find me
That these dull walls delay yet her fair arms enfolding
That the air is too gross to bear the cry hither
Wherewith she is crying come love, for I love thee

[f. 31]
Hark! O days grown a dream in the dream ye have wont me
Do ye draw forth the ghosts of old deeds that were nothing
That the sound of my trumpet sweeps down on the even
What shows will ye give me to grace my departure?
Hark the beat of the horse hoofs the murmur of men folk
And I riding from battle amidst of my faithful
Wild hopes in my heart of the life that was coming
Wild longing unsatisfied clinging about me
Fell of faith that the summer sun elsewhere was ripening
The fruit grown a pain for my parched lips to think of
Come back thou poor Pharamond come back for my pity
Far afield must thy feet fare before the rest cometh
In far lands are they raising the walls of thy prison
The faith and the fire of the heart the world hateth
There was wasteless wax fordless the high hills are
Fever lurks in the valley and plague passes over
The sand of the plain and with venom and fury
Fulfilled are words that thou needs must wend through
In the hollow of the mountains the wind is stored up now
Till the keel that shall carry thee hoisteth her sail
War is crouching unseen round the lands thou shalt come to
With thy sword cast away send thy cunning forgotten
Yea and een the great lord the great love of thy fealty
He who goadeth thee on weaveth nets to cast oer thee
And thou knowest all as thou ridest there lonely
With the tangles and toils of tomorrows uprising
Making ready meanwhile yet more days of thy kingship
Faithful heart hadst thou Pharamond for the holding thy treasure
I am fain to thee surely no shame hath destained thee
Come hither for thy face all unkissed would I look on!

[f. 31v]
Stand we close! for the King cometh back from the hunting
Troop past in the twilight, O pageant I raised
Pour through the dark archway to the light that awaits you
In the chamber of dais where I once sat among you
Like the shadows ye are to the shadowless glory
Of the banquet hall blazing with gold and light go ye
Then blink for a little at your King in his bravery
Then bear forth your faith to the shadowing of night tide
And fall asleep fearless of memories of Pharamond
And in dim dreams dream haply that ye too are Kings
For your dull morrow cometh and is as today is
Pass on in contentment O King I discerned not
Through the cloak of the blindness that saw nought beside thee
That feared for no pain and craved for no pleasure
Pass on dead alive to thy place: thou are worthy
Nor shalt thou grow wearier that well worshipped idol
That the incense winds round in the land of the heather
Wile the early and taller rains fall as God listeth
And on earth that God loveth the sun shineth fairly
Yea will art thou wert thou crown of all rulers
Thou should ripen no field free no frost bounden river
Loose no heart from its love turn no soul to salvation
Turn no tempest aside stay no plague in mid ocean
Yet grow unto thinking that thou were Gods brother
Till loveless death gripped thee unloved unlamented
Pass forth weary King bear thy crown high to night
Then fall asleep fearing no cry from times by gone
But in dim dreams dream haply that thou are desired
For thy dull morrow cometh and is as today is
Hold yet there flashes full on thy face O Honorius
And I see thee the land’s lord and far away falleth
My old life of a King at the sight O thou stranger
For I know thee full surely the foe the heart hateth
For the barren fulfillment of all things it lacketh
I may turn away praising, that those days long departed
Departed without thee; how long had I piped then
Or eer thou hadst danced, how long were my weeping
Ere thou hadst lamented- what dear thing desired
Would thy heart have ere come to know why I craved for
To what crime I could think of wouldst thou be consenting
Yet thou well I know thee most meet for a ruler
Thou lovest not mercy yet that thou be merciful
Thou joyst not in justice yet just shall thy dooms be
No deep hell thou dreadest nor dreamst of high heaven
No gleam of love leads thee no gift may men give thee
For no kiss for no comfort the lone way thou hearest
A blind will without life lest thou faint ere the end come
Yea foil it was that I called thee my foreman
From thee may I turn now with sword in sheath

[f. 32]
Without shame or misgiving because God hath made thee
A ruler for manfolk pass on then unpitied
There is darkness between us till the measures fulfillment
Amidst singing thou hearst not fair sights that thou seest not
Think this eve on the deeds that shalt set in mens hands
Than fall asleep fearless of dead days that return not
To bring fair things about for which thou hast no blessing
Yet dream if thou mayst that thou yet hast a hope
For thy dull morrow cometh and is as today is
O sweet wind of the night where with now ariseth
The red moon through the garden boughs faint over laden
O faint murmuring tongue of the dream tide triumphant
That would tell me sad tales in the times long passed over
If somewhat I sicken and turn to thy freshness
From no shame it is of earths tangle and trouble
And the deeds done for nought and the change that forgetteth
But for hope of the lips that I kissed yestereven
Bur for hope of the hands that this morn clung about me
And the breast that was heaving with words driven backward
By longing I longed for by pain of departing night
By my eyes that knew all pain my pain that spake not
Yea for hope of the next morn the eom boughs shall tangle
Fresh dawn and fresh noon and fresh night of desire
Still following and changing with nothing forgotten
For hope of new wonder each dawn when I waking
Behold her awakening eyes turning to seek me
For hope of fresh marvels each time the world changing
Shall show her feet moving in noontide to meet me
For hope of fresh bliss past all words half forgotten
When her voice shall break through the hushed blackness of night
O sweet wind of the summer night broad moon a whitening
Bear me witness to love and world he has fashioned
It shall change we shall change as through rain and through sunshine
The green rod of the rose bough to blossoming changeth
Still lieth in wait with his sweet tale untold of
Each long year of love and the first scarce beginneth
Wherein I have listened to the word God hath whispered
Why the fair world was fashioned mid wonders uncounted
Breath soft O sweet wind for surely she speaketh
Weary I wax and my life is a waning
Life lapseth fast and I fain for thee Pharamond
What art thou lacking if love no more sufficeth
Weary not sweet as I weary to meet thee
Look not on the way love but my eyes that were weeping
Faint not in love as Pharamond fainteth
Love were enough if thy lips were not lacking

[f. 33]
Love is enough ho ye who seek saving
Go no further come hither there have been who found it
And these know the house of fulfillment of craving
These know the cup with the roses around it
These the worlds wound and the balm that hath bound
Cry out the world heedeth not turn to you home
Set your faces as steel to the fears that assemble
He heedeth he hearkeneth he cometh to you ward
Round his goad for the weak and his sword for the froward
Lo his eyes of all (face full of) sorrow that may not dissemble
Lo his lips how with tales of last kisses they tremble
Cry out for he heedeth to lead to your home
O hearken the words of his voice of compassion
Come cling round about ye faithful who sicken
All the weary unrest and the world passing fashion
As the rain in mid morning your sorrows shall thicken
Yet surely within you some God head shall quicken
As ye cry to me heeding who lead to your home
Come pain ye shall have and be blind to the ending
Come fear ye shall have and the skys overcasting
Come change ye shall have for long are ye wending
Come a crown ye shall have for your thirst and your fasting
The kissed lips of love and fair life everlasting.

[f. 33v]
Cry out for once heedeth who leadeth you home
Is he gone? is he with us? ho ye who seek saving
Go no further come hither for have we not found it
Here is the house of fulfillment of craving
Here is the cup with the roses around it
The worlds would well healed and the balm that hath bound
Cry out            the world heedeth no word of your home

[f. 34]
If love be real if I whom ye behold
Be aught but glittering winds and gown of gold
Be aught but singing of an oft heard song
Made sweetly record of dead stingless wrong
How shall we part at that sad gardens end
Through which the ghosts of mighty lovers wend
How shall ye faint and fade with giftless hands
Who once held fast the life of all the lands
Beloved if so much as this I say
I know full well ye need it not today
As with full hearts and glorious hope ablaze
Through the thick veil of what shall be ye gaze
And lacking words to name the things ye see
Turn back with yearning speechless mouths to me
Ah not today, and yet the time has been
When by the bed my wings have waved unseen
Wherein my servant lay who deemed me dead
My tears have dropped anigh the hapless head
Deep buried in the grass and crying out
For heaven to fall and end despair or doubt
For these days then I speak and say believe
That from these hands reward ye shall receive
Reward of what life springing fresh again
Life of delight? I say it not of pain?
It may be pain eternal? who shall tell
Yet pain of Heaven beloved and not of hell
What sign what sign ye cry that so it is
The sign of Earth, its sorrow its bliss
Waxing and waning steadfastness and change
Too full of life that I should deem it strange
That death hangs over it too sure to die
But I must deem its resurrection nigh
In what wise ah in what wise shall it be
How shall the bark that girds the winter tree
Babble about the sap that sleeps beneath
And tell the fashion of its life and death
How shall my tongue in speech mans longing wrought
Tell of the things where of he knoweth nought
If I should speak how might ye understand
How those I love shall share my promised land
Have faith and crave and suffer and all ye
The many mansions of my house shall see
And be content: cast shame and pride away
Let honour gild the worlds eventless day

[f. 34v]
Shrink not from change and shudder not at crime
Leave lies to rattle in the sieve of Time
Then whatsoever your workday gear shall stain
From me a wedding garment shall ye gain
No God shall dare cry out at when at last
Your time of wandering is overpast
A wedding garment and a glorious seat
Within my threshold een as ye be meet
Fear not I say again believe it true
That not as men meet shall I measure you
This calm strong soul whose hidden tale found out
Has grown a spell to conquer fear and doubt
Is he not mine yea surely mine no less
The well mocked clamourer from that bitterness
The strong ones strength from me he had it not
Let the world keep it that his love forgot
The weak mans weakness was enough to save
Let the world hide it in his honour’s grave
For whatso folly is or wisdom was
Across my threshold naked all shall pass
Then must I speak of little things as great
Then must I tell of love and call it hate
Then must I bid you seek what all men shun
Reward defeat praise deeds that were not done
Fear not no vessel to dishonour born
Is in my house; there all shall well adorn
The walls whose stones the lapse of Time has laid
Is here again a life that great tales made
All cast aside for love and then and then
Love snatched away the world an adder den
And all folk foes and one the one desire
How shall we name it grown a poisoned fire
God once still but grown a God of shame
A lying God a curse without a name
So turned that love to hate the wise world saith
Folly I say twixt love and hate lies death
They shall not mingle: neither died this love
But through a dreadful world all changed muse move
With Earthly death and wrong and earthly woe
The only deeds its hands might find to do
Ye well may deem that this one shall abide
Within the murmuring palace of my pride
But here another how shall he have praise.
Through flames and thorns I led him many days
Nor did he shrink, but smiled and followed close
Till the dark shad of doubt and hate arose
Twixt him and his desire with heart that burned

[f. 35]
With very love back through the thorns be turned
His wounds his tears prayers without avail
Forgotten now nor een for him a tale
Because for loves sake love he cast aside
Lo saith the world a heart well satisfied
With what I give; and empty love forgot
Come nigher O my child and hear them not
The world thou lovest een my world it is
Thy faithful hands yet reach out for my bliss
Thou canst not deem that I can go astray
Patience we twain await a glorious day
No further saith the world twixt heaven and hell
Than twixt these twain my Faithful heed it well
For on the great day when the hosts are met
On Armageddons plain with spears beset
This is my banner with my sign thereon
That is my sword whereby my deeds are won
And how shall tongue of man tell all the tale
Of faithful hearts who overcome or fail
But at the last fail nowise to be mine
In diverse ways they drink the fated wine
Those twain drank mid the lulling of the storm
Upon the Irish Sea when love grown warm
Kindled and blazed and lit the days to come
The hope and joy and death that led them home
In diverse ways yet having drunk be sure
The flame thus lighted ever shall endure
So my feet trod the wine press when it flowed
Lo faithful see the doors of my abode
Wide open now and many pressing in
That they the lordship of the earth may win
Hark to the murmuring round my bannered ear
And gird you ready for the coming war
For who shall say how soon the day shall be
Of that last fight that swalloweth up the sea
Fear not be ready forth the banners go
And will not turn again till the last foe
Is overcome as though he had not been
Then with your memories ever fresh and green
Come back within the house of love to dwell
For ye; the sorrows that no words might not tell
Your tears unheeded and your tears made nought
Thus and no otherwise through all have wrought
That if the while ye toiled and sorrowed most
The sound of your lamenting seemed all lost
And form my house no answer came again
It was because of all your toil and pain
A house was building and your moans and sighs
Came hither as toil helping melodies
And in the mortar of our gem built wall
Your tears were mingled mid the rise and fall
Of golden trowels tinkling in the hands
Of builders gathered wide from all the lands
What is all finished nay come help to build
Walls that the sun of sorrow once did gild
Through many a bitter morn and hopeless eve
That so at last in bliss ye may believe
Then rest with me and turn no more tears
For then no more by days and mouths and years
We measure time that was and is no more
By hours of pain come back and joy passed oer

[f. 36]
The afternoon seems waxen grey
Now these fair things have passed away
And I who should be merry now
A thinking of the glorious show
Feel somewhat sad and wish it were
Tomorrows mid morn fresh and fair
About the babble of our stead
Content thee sweet for nowise dead
Within our hearts the story is
It shall come back to better bliss
On many an eve of happy spring
Or midst of summers flourishing
Or is some noon of autumn tide
Thou wandering on the turf beside
The chestnut wood mayst find thy song
Fade sweet as slow thou goest along
Mayst feel at last thy feet stayed there
As though bidest something fair
And harkenedst for a coming foot
While down the bole unto the root
The long leaves flutter, loud to thee
The fall of spiky nuts shall be
The creeping wood wales noise above
For thou wouldst see the wings of love
Or some November eve belike
Thou wandering back with bow and tyke
From wolf chase on the wind swept hill
Shall find that narrow vale and still
And Pharamond and Azalais
Wandering amid that grassy place
Where we twain met last year there
Red shafted pine trees rise high
And changeless now from year to year
What thing soever brought them there
Great rocks are scattered all around
Wouldst thou be frightened at the sound
Of their sweet speech so long ago
It was since first their love did grow

Maybe for een now when he turned
His heats scorn and his love out burned
And love the more for that ablaze
I shuddered een as in that place
High up the mountains where men say
Gods dwelt in time long worn away
At loves voice did I tremble too
And his bright wings though well I knew
He was a comely minstrel lad
In dainty gold raiment clad
Yea for the tale is sweet and old
Long years past and unto great men told

[f. 36v]
And glorious women who unheed
Kindled a hearkening their own need
Set forth by long forgotten men
Even as we kindle praise we then
Tales of old time whereby alone
The fairness of the world is shown
Some things perchance I noted not
Yet maybe they are unforgot
But in my heart are hidden well
For night and loneliness to tell
And yet how may I be but fain
That all was to be done again
Hist Master Mayor is drawn anigh
This Fair thing speaketh presently

May it please you your grace that I be forgiven
Over bold over eager to bear forth my speech
In which yet there speaketh the good town beseeching
That ye tell us of your kindness if ye be contented
With this breath of old tales, and shadowy seemings
Of old times departed over wise for our pleasure
Might the rhyme be perchance, but rightly we knew not
How to change it and fashion it new it new into fairness
But all is done now so forget ye King Pharamond
And Azalais his love if we set it forth fondly
That fairly set forth were a sweet thing to think of
In the season of summer twixt labour and sleeping

Fair Master Mayor and City well beloved
Think of us twain as folk no little moved
By this your kindness and believe it not
That Pharamond the Freed shall be forgot
By us at least yea more than ye can think
This summer dream into our hearts shall sink
But of your gentleness I pray you bring
This knife and girdle deemed a well brought thing
And a Kings thanks what so they be of worth
To him who Pharamond this day set forth
In worthiest wise and made a great man live
Giving me greater gifts than I may give
And therewithal I pray you master Mayor
Unto the seeming Azalais to bear
This chain that she may wear it for my sake
The memory of my pleasure to awake
Gifts such as Kings give sweet fain had I been
To see him face to face and his fair queen

[f. 37]
And thank him friendly but as thou thinkst sweet
Few men as friends must unfreed Pharamond meet
So is it we are lonelier than those twain
Though from that vale the ne’er depart again
Shall I bewail it love since thou and I
By all the turmoil shall be drawn more nigh

The love of its fair life
Yea midst it all it shall it shall be sweet to crave
More time for love more mine for life to have.

As though the world were nought but well:
As underneath the planes we dine
Thy fathers silver cup shall shine
The vintage of the southern bank
That ten years past the sunbeams drank
Shall fill the mazer bowl carved o’er
With naked shepherd folk of yore,
There dainty worser fare than ours
Should seem while o’er the garden flowers
The wind comes to us, and the bees
Babble mid honey-bearing trees
Then how shall we be garlanded?
For thee the buds of roses red

Joan
For her white roses widest blown
Giles
The jasmine bough the King shall crown
Joan
And sops-in-wine for the fair love.
Giles
Surely our feast shall deeper move
The kind heart of the summer tide
Than many a day of pomp and pride

[ff. 37v and 38 missing]

[f. 38v]
And as by moon and stars well lit
Our hands part when we finish it
Full satisfied our hearts shall be
With that well won felicity-
Joan
Ah sweetheart be not all so sure!
Love who would evermore endure
Mid pleading sweetness still doth keep
A goad to stay his heart from sleep
And I shall long as thou shalt long
For unknown cure of unnamed wrong
As from our happy feast we pass
Over the rose strewn midnight grass
Praise Love who will not be forgot
Giles
Yea praise we love who sleepeth not
Come o’er much gold mine eyes have seen
And long now for the pathway green
And rose hung ancient walls of grey
Warm with the sun now gone away
Joan
Full fain I and of rest thereby
And watch the flickering martins fly
About the long eave bottles red,
And the clouds lessen overhead
E’en now meseems the kive are come
Unto the grey gates of our home
And low to hear the milking pail
The peacock spreads abroad his tail
Against the sun as down the lane
The milkmaids pass the moveless wave
And stable door where the roan team
An hour agone now gan to dream
Over the dusty oats-come love
Noises of river and of grove
And moving things in field and stall
And night birds whistle shall be all
Of the worlds speech that we shall hear
By then we come the garth anear.
For then this moon that hangs aloft
These thronged streets lightness now and soft
Unnoted yea and like a shred
Of the wide white cloud overhead
Sharp in the dark star sprinkled sky
Low oer the willow boughs shall lie
And when our chamber we shall gain
Eastward perchance our eyes shall strain
If yet perchance dawn shall show
Love go with us as we go
And from the night of thy fair hand
Cast wide about the blooming land
The seed of such like tales as this
But change sweet day about our bliss
Come restful night when day is done
Come dawn and bring a fairer one.

[HM 6422 Alternate Version, white ruled paper

[f. 39] O! wondrous I dreamed that my dream passed away
And I was awake yet fulfilled of contentment
Yea and een now as the light falls upon me
Past is the pain and the weary the unresting
So I know I am dying and that dear God of Heaven
Has remembered my deeds and my life without guile
Good art thou Hope while the life yet torments us
But be better well now have I gained than thy goading
Farewell 0f life wherein once I was merry
O dream of the world I depart now and love thee
A little tale added to thy long drawn out story
Yet strange as the light fades once more from my eyes
How once more I behold rock wall of the grey fenced windows
The dark wood in the pass and the white winding highway
The green grass round my head and now heaven open
Nought but her and her hands and her face through the ages
What hath happened that I held him to my heart in my terror
And cryed out as he cried and fell trembling upon him?
And awoke with the sun turned to blackness and shame
Till I saw that he slept like a child after playing
And why am I weeping with anguish of pleasure
My lips wet with his tears and mine mingled together
His hand closed on mine: his desire and his dreaming
So deep in my heart that a dream and a picture
Is my life in these field[s] and all things familiar
Why make many words Love has fallen upon me
That once in sweet songs was a fair word and gentle
But now is my life amid sleeping and waking
Yea my death it may be ere the end be upon me
Yet bear witness thou day that hath brought my love hither
Thou sun that burst out through the mist oer the mountains
In that moment mine eyes turned afar to behold him
Bear witness ye fields that have fed me and clothed me
And air I have breathed and earth that hath born me
Thou I find you but shadows and wrought but for fading
Though all ye and God fail me thy love shall not fail
Yea if even this love now that seemeth such pleasure
That no God is worthy of turneth to pain
If he wake without memory of me and my weeping
With a name on his lips not mine--that I know not
If this my hand leave his hand for the last time
And no word from his lips be kind for my comfort
If all speech fade between us all sight fail me henceforth
If all hope and God fail me my love shall not fail
It was idle speech, love, this talk of thy dying   
For thou sleepest full sweet and the fever falls from thee--
Thanked be the carline that learned me some leechcraft
Not long lasted my terror: and soon the time cometh
That hath marvelous might to help men overwearied
[f. 39v] Hasten forth on the highway and some half a mile further
Thou shalt pass yon green knoll where grow three great oak trees
And there on the other side deep in the orchard
Thou shalt come to our homestead a cot poor enow
And there shall be come my father from field
To his dinner for yet low is the sun, and for token
Show this lace from my bosom and bid him bestir
Weep not nor be sorry for all shall be well yet
Well be thou damsel as my dear son thou watched
If he waken and cry for me tell him I come soon

Woes me for thy sorrow fair man if thou sawst me
Would it please thee to see me thus weep for a stranger
Nay my tears shall not wet thy poor hand that trembled
As that tear fell upon them I will go further from thee
Too fair is thy face that thou shouldst be sorry
For thou werst well loved belike in thy land
In that long ago--have evil folk hurt thee
Art thou thinking of this as the tears flow again
Ah fain would I show [?] thee the cool of our garden
With pleasant things round thee--how rent is thy raiment
That once has been goodly in the red chest there lieth
The web that I wove last winter for thee--
Shall I dare to touch thee when thou hast awakened
Woes me how thou tremblest yet I touched thee not roughly
Thou wert dreaming of trouble: wise looketh thy visage
Thou hast dealt with great men, and seen great mens daughters
If thou couldst but dream now that I have wept for thee
For no one will tell it: and thou wilt come tell me
Thy trouble when thou hast awaked and beheld me
I would I knew all now and what thy last words were--
Heaven help me for why does the world seem so empty
The bright day so strange and the birds song so woeful
And why are the wishes my heart had this morning
No longer wished now and why is this pain here
And am I not pale now a strong maid I deemed me    
No ill worker afield and as good to my father
As many a man and lo know I feel fainting
Is it death draweth on me? then surely ere dying
One dear kiss I might give to this my companion
Will he deem it ungentle if both we are dying
Forgive me dear friend I am feeble and love thee
Why hast thou waked me so soon foster father
For I dreamed I was dead and my sorrow all ended
And in heaven itself I awoke and beheld her
And sore was she weeping for my sorrows all ended
Nay bend down to hearken she called me companion
And her face came anigh and her lips kissed my lips
Thy fellow fair man is gone and I watch thee
I was weak even now and bowed down for faintness
Forgive me that I woke thee shall I sing thee to slumber
For sick hast thou been and much talking shall hurt thee
[f. 40] Fare thou with my good father here through the city
And hearken to folk what they say when they hear thee
Tell some tale of my yet being alive in the world
Then if all things go well to the faithful go
And bid them be ready for greeting King Pharamond
Then come thou back hither and some days will we bide
While the rumour is spreading of this my returning

Oliver

And then if war follows who but I will be ready
And not all so feeble thy    shall find me

King

Nay war shall not follow a fierce King hast thou found me
Or fain of the kindness of my people that loved me

Oliver

And still shall they love thee lo lightly I go then
Yea wilt thou or wilt thou not fair rose the sun
On this day when thy right and thy realm I shall     thee
Come fair master Gregory goodly the sight is
Of the city King Pharamond saved ere his beard grew

Bertha

Tell me sweet love what man was this Pharamond
Of whose nobleness ever thy fosterer telleth were
Hath he known him hast thou known him fain were I to see him
For such a King surely the world seldom seeth

King

Lo now my love were he somewhat like me
Wouldst thou have loved him hadst thou met him freehearted
He craving of thee such love and such kindness
As I have craved of thee such deeds Kings have done

Bertha

Had I loved him like thee no dread of his Kingship
No toil of great deeds no worship of wisdom    
No lowliness heart felt no fear of Gods judgement
Had stayed me from following him all the world over
What thinkest thou sweet shall I ever behold him

King

Look up my hearts darling look on King Pharamond
On his lips thou kissed and his breast thou hast clung to
Here beats his heart that hath craved thee so often
Or ever he saw thee: his right hand folk tell of
Is this that thine holdeth for thy trust hath God wrought it
Lo thy dreams foretelling and mine met together

Bertha

Great joy to have seen so mighty a King
Had I seen him and died: great joy to fall dreaming
Of his heart drawn to mine O how may I bear it

King

Why weepest thou love nought changed is our world
The world we have made whatso things drift about us?

Bertha

I weep not for sorrow but my heart is sore laden
With the thought of the world and the strange things it beareth
[f. 40v] So like and unlike and unlike the tales my heart told me
So little I knew so swift comes the learning
Yet fear not for me as a Queen I shall fail thee
Face to face with thy greatness my greatness shall grow
Nor deem that I deem thy love worthier for all
Since ever I knew thee the greatest the world bears
Whatsoever new hold thee now hot grows the morning
And folk gin to throng thick in and out the high gate there
Tell me tales of times past and the tales of thy city
Long were it to tell of the times of the leaguer

First lo there in the wall nook King Pharamond stood
With valiant men round him while the waves of his freemen
Ebbed and flowed round about him--thy fair hand why dost thou lay
On the dint of his axe horn as the route thrust him backwards
This was his life thread and near to the shears then
Till a great shout arose and out from the town gates
Burst Master Oliver with all he could muster
Old men and boys who could yet wield a weapon
And so was that jeopardy well tided over
[other chapter comes in here]
A fair tale thou tellest neighbour nor yet less than the truth
I was in arms on that day with King Pharamond
A stout King folk called him ere he fled from his people
Bewitched as some say by a wandering wizard.
So there is an end of an old stem once honored
And Count Theobald the Constable is King in his stead
Since ye come like a stranger I tell you so much
And do folk praise the new king--abides peace in the land
Perdie not so new for three years hath King Theobald
Ruled over our land amid peace and much praising
Fierce was King Pharamond a lord of the battle
But little methinks went the peoples love with him
Heavy burdens he laid upon the children unborn yet
And babes in the womb may cry out on his valour
I remember the constable a strong man and hardy
Well stricken in years yet men held him for cruel
Heavy words have I heard the King speak unto him
All that is forgotten and the country grows fat now
Yet I for my part have a good word for Pharamond
A bountiful man and the bravest of all men
Fare ye well ye do well to bide in his land now
What sayest thou sweet--are these lies or no lies
I wot well it was thou love that won then this welfare
But dull was Count Theobald who dealt as he listed
Heeding not who his deeds might crush in the doing
All is well though some wise man must be in his council
But for me amidst all wrongs was I kinder than they wot of
But few folk it is that never forget
Cling closer to them love for all the worlds folly
Save ye fair stranger in good time are ye come here
For the King cometh for the now by this gate for the hunting
A new King we have gotten since I had come ashore here
Yea a good King, an old man and gentle
[f. 41] A diligent man in the courts and the council
And no fight maddened fool like King Pharamond the dreamer
The dead then King Pharamond in fight or on sick bed
Dead he may he but died not among us fair stranger
True it is he was trusty till our war troubles ended
The troubles that he and his father brought on us
Then the blood he had shed cried aloud for his cursing
And long he lay sick with a terrible sickness
Amid dreams of despair craving more and more murder
Till one morning of May we awoke and were kingless
He had fled and his place now knew him no more
And no one might tell in what wise he departed
A strange tale to tell of these days of the world
For a good reward Certes I toiled in days bygone
Not for these fools and blind but for thee and for me
Didst thou do all thy deeds and hear all the trouble
Yea and somewhere thy goodness some goodness begeteth
That guesseth thy name not and knoweth nought of thee
Hark here come two a talking and their tale is of Pharamond
But say now that Pharamond fareth back hither
He were better to bide in what land yet will hold him
Belike yet a sort of pestilent people
Might gather about him were his banner abroad yet
Now my God forbid it the man was all accursed
Still craving for battle that his fame might grow greater
God fulfilled him of fame and then cast him aside
As the hangman cast by the rod duly reddened
Yea God and my love are hand in hand henceforth
A curse of great madness oertook him as men say
When his measure was full God keep us from such men

The air waxeth heavy methinks on this morning
Better breathing I had in the shepherd folks meadows
Thou art pale love have patience the end is not yet
I have heard of Kings good once and full of all pity
Grown into grim tyrants God keep thee from such things
And yet good it were that tomorrow were gained
For my heart groweth hard too and I long to be hearkening
The flap of thy banner the blare of thy horn
Have patience a little nay listen what cometh
Were thy words a spell then to raise clangour of trumpets?
Lo here King Theobald look on the show well
For the first and last time this may be that thou seest
How I rode in my glory in the days that are bygone
So there goeth the household far finer than mine was
And few faces missing so the archers look goodly
More gold have they gotten on headpiece and jacket
But their captain lives yet for a sturdy old carle
Sport where to cry the old cry and behold him
What next he should do: lo the down looking priest
My almoner comrade I warrant he deems me there
Well learned he of God whoever shall bless me
[f. 41v] St Hubert the huntsman grows great in the girdle stead
His hair is got greyer--and here comes King Theobald
God keep thee Sir Constable why art thou King then
Three or four of my fair friends had filled my thought [?] better
But perchance they were fain to await my returning
Well thou too art fatter but little more lordly
Than ever thou lookedst--tush good enough art thou
For the work Kings must do but this councillor by thee
Green eyed and jutting-nosed I know the man not
Yea he is the soul then and thou art the body
And no better meseems may be got for the ruling
So my place is well filled go thy ways O my household
To see you wend past me like folk in a play
And me never more now to meddle or send [?] there
Is a marvellous end to the deeds done between us

Bertha

I hearken my love and my heart goes with thy heart
Thy hands and my hands, hold our two lives together

Shipmaster

They cry well on the King these townsmen fair Sir
But time was I heard them cry louder than this
Save us King Pharamond save us we perish
Yea I saw him ride out through the streets for their saving
A goodly sight that and my heart beat to see it.
Though I nought of their blood was caught here in the trap
Of the leaguer that cried loud from sunrise to sunset
For fire and the sword for all souls in the city
Yea and had you but seen him as he rode back from battle
And the flowers rained round him and tears of men blessed him
You had said that such love might never be sundered
Twixt him and his people and now none remembers
So changes the world without shame or remembrance
Howbeit I must wend on for my ship sails this even
And wither in the world do ye make for fair master
Northward we sail and shall first make an island
Wherin shepherd folk dwell simple people and kind
Kingless people and poor but their land good enow
And deem there would I go wouldst thou give us a passage
Gold have I for payment and of good will thou seemest

Bertha

Even so had I prayed thee love but for pride of thy sorrow

Captain

And this it may well be but what people are ye--

King

A Master Smith am I who fared to this country
To see Pharamond the King and render him service
But since he is gone and his fame all forgotten
This land seems not good nor the name of a King
And these shepherds I tell of have fed me all ready
And good friends I hold them my wife will wend with me
My father and my fosterer: lo here a fair ----
Wilt thou grant my desire and have it for handsel

Captain

[f. 42] I like well thy seeming, and thou shalt sail with me
Since so thou wilt have it: my ship is the Nicholas
And  lieth  down yonder alongside the red pillar
Where standeth Laurence A true lovers knot
Black and white is her ancient and eastlander--Walter
On wave and in market men are wonted to call me
We shall weigh with the part of the ebb about midnight
Be merry till then and God keep you fair master
And art thou content to cast by thy kingship
I tremble now I see thee so calm and so Godlike
Surely all men must deem thou were born to be worshipped
What King shall the world have if thou shalt be wandering--
Nay nay love behold I have proved it and failed
And full little the forfeit I pay now meeeemeth
Great lords and due ruling the world never lacketh
Right well said the townsman I was but a dreamer
In fight won I dreamed of more deeds to do still
In fight lost I dreamed of new days and their changes
In peace still I dreamed of more peace more abundant
In war time I dreamed of all war passing over
No right would be without fear of wrong coming
No wrong might I leave till the coming right crushed it
Ah love let us leave it to the rich worlds wisdom
Who see things what they are and weigh out their helping
In such measure as need is, leaving more to be craved for
Nor pour forth their hearts in one minute of longing
But we were made for love and for worship
And have we not won it and who is our master?
Oh! I am content and content still increaseth
As the tale goeth forward O King that hast crowned me
And each day shalt thou change a little my loved one
And I shall change with thee amid love still unchanging
All is done then and peace crowns the past on this even
And if yet in thy pity tears fall on the pathway
Where my feet trod bewildered when I last wended shipways
That thy heart yet is living in the days of thy longing
That a little more yet thou art learning to love me
O teach me still as thou learnest teach me also my sweet one
Who hast saved me alive from the lost world
Swift on drift the hours and day weareth toward noon now
In a little while now will my fosterer be with us
Somewhat my heart faileth as his great faith I think of
Deem not my heart fail thee, if I fain were not hated
By one that hath loved me ere my life had beginning
Fear not for him also shall love deal with kindly
He too is his servant to see what love biddeth
To forget what he hides and be bold where he leadeth
[f. 42v] Lo through the white sunshine hither wendeth my father
And a mighty man with him in wondrous array
Stark in steel with wild eye neath his helmet
And axe raised high aloft he strides on like an image
Or the giants folk say dwelt of old in our fellside
And yet O me his face the face of thy fosterer
Yea Oliver the good is this grim champion sweetling
Lo in such guise we went in the days gone forever.
Fair and fearful to see thee in such guise my darling
But why gleameth laughter across thy fresh visage
Why so young and so fresh do I feel and remember
How fearful so ever we seemed in the worship
With spurring full often the days work was finished
O the fair day that shows me the face of King Pharamond
O how may I bear it thy love and thy kindness
O friend and good father speak lower I pray thee
Or our lives may pay for it scarce am I at home yet
Lo here is mine army one old carle unhelpful
Mock and be merry son that is to say yet
Were better unsaid before my dear lady
Nay speak out sweet friend we whom war cannot shame
May scarce be afrighted at the fortune of battle
Soon told is the tale come thou quick our friends gather
Few folk shall we be as in happy days bygone
Shall the old days come back then shall we live life twice over
Nay but let them pass onward nought is lost in enduring
Ah what dread is this that drifts above the noontide
Is the longed for day come and all turned into dreaming
Nay surely for thy face hath the blitheness and boldness
Of the days when the wind caught thy dew sprinkled banner
Thou sayst it this day and I glad as in days past
I said that that life falleth and no stream floweth back
Yet if it might be still the first freshness of youth
I feel at my heart this first day of freedom
Lo my friend lo my love as we crossed the seas over
And my joy and my love a weight lay on my heart
And I knew not its meaning but now well I know it
That a fools task a striving for nought lay before me
Nay nay friend I blame not the old days and their boldness
Bright hope of what was not yet blessed though blessed this story [?]
They made ready the ripeness of our measureless gladness
But the highway runs onward and faint far away now
Is the clash once so rude of the day of my kingship
Seem careless of longing nights free from desire
Yet help me O friend that I may not forget them
Friend falter not now lest their sweetness should fail
And my love come to lose the one thing it would lack now
Since the first time I trusted thy faith and thy kindness
O be of my council be thy wishes my wishes
Lest I bearing not to behold all thy longing
[f. 43] Know what thou wouldst say: for thou deemest she loves me
Delay not too long lest she die with desire
Dear friend thou old now all thy loves of years bygone
Are gathered together to fall upon me
Till thou deemest my worn heart and storm battered body
All passeth for nothing what know ye how little
Is the wealth of the world for all women to kneel to
All passeth for nothing what know ye how little
God worshipped in heaven is loved by a lover
A sweet fear and hope son how fair her you showeth
But lo! how she cometh fare well for a little

King

Where hast thou been fair maiden this morning
That so long I have missed thy speech and thy kindness
Thou seemst heavy of heart though thou smilest upon me
Hath aught evil happened and thou never told me
May nought but thou too art pale on this morning
That so long I have missed thy speech and thy kindness
Thou seemst heavy of heart through thou smilest upon me
Hath aught evil happened and thou never told me
Nay nought [ck. orig.]
I fear for thy pain lest thou make me too sorry
It is nothing I wrought in the stithy an hour
I thought thou wouldst hearken the clink of my hammer
And come to behold me but with much art thou busied
Try thy might not too much we may yet call thee sick
Yea I would not be sick a long way lies before me
Too wide is the world since God maketh folk friends
May I sit here while thou lettest more tales of its wonders
But thou tell me rather why thou hast been weeping
A story full idle; thou wilt no[t] regard it
I have been a long way ere yet thou wert waking
O tell me tell me all in whatwise thou ariseth it
And what light was in the heavens when thy raiment went rustling
Through the lily strews here and what air met thy mouth
And what sounds of the morning were sweet to thy ears
What flowers thy feet met what folk touched thy hand
And how thou wert fain of fair lips that kissed thine
No folk have I met but thee and my father
And been fain of no love but wilt thou forgive me
If tell thee a tale of a dream that hath grieved me
In an hour of dreaming then gone by forever
Tell all that thou mayst quoth sick heart to sweet music
Kind heart thou hast: I might sleep not last night
So I rose ere the dawn and drew on my raiment
And went forth the moon set while yet dun were the roses
And went my way forth to the feet of the fells
To see how my ewes fared and the old horse past working
And who shepherds the sheep up there in the mountains
Nay untended all summer long there do they wander
There is little to tell but thou cravedst a long story
I turned from the highway through the high grass and clover
Grey under the faint stars as the fair dawn gan spreading
By the brookside I went and the water-hen clucked
Een in that early time and afar through the cool air
[f. 43v] The cows lowed at whiles then a long way I wended
Through the wise spreading meadows till the sun was nigh rise
And the dust of the long grass was thick on my steps [ck. orig.]
All yellow and grey as the hill slopes I drew to--
There was sun on the plain but no sun in the valley
Where I found my sheep grazing amid the grey rocks
So I sat down and called them and they came bleating to me
While I said to myself a long way have I wended
And I know not for why, and I fain would go further
I know not for why: then I turned and fared backward
And the sun was full hot as I came to the brookside
And I stayed in the midst of the stepping stones there
While the ripple ran past me till I longed for its freshness
And fared back to a willow hung pool that I wot of
Where the sand is full smooth and the meadows sweet bloometh
In the high bank at one end and there well I bathed me
And then gathered a bunch of the yellow white blossoms
And lay down in the shaded grass under the willows
And there slumber drew oer me and when I had wakened
This dream had I dreamed I wot not how to tell thee
Nay tell me thou rather of this scar on thy wrist here
And the fight it was won it will be a fair story
I knew not the earth was so fair in the morning
As the mouth has made it tell me now of thy slumber
Ah me then a little must I turn my face from thee
But help me with my love in these fair meads I wander
And was happier then than thou since first I beheld thee
As we went hand in hand telling tales of our loving
Does he love thee did he long for thee all the world over
It was but a dream and in dreaming he loved me
May thy life be a dream then may I die to behold it
What sayst thou O dear one--nay hearken the ending
For methought it grew dark and our loving hands sundered
And I spread out my hands and sought to cling round him
But nothing was nigh me, and moaning I wandered
Until night turned to day and these meads to a palace
And there I stood gold clad folk gold clad about me
With glad faces and kind, and they said the king waits
So I trembled with woe or with joy or with wonder?
I knew not but knew I was there to be wedded
To a great King of men and the heralds were crying
His name through the streets and mine mingled with it
As slow I went forth to the place where he waited
But ere thy foot passed oer the threshold I wakened
Remembering no whit the high name that they named there
I wakened to woes for this dream I dreamed often
Or ever thou camest here and liked it full little
But now thou art come why lookst thou so dreadful
Have I hurt thee: hast thou too dreamed dreams of undoing
O kind hand O dear hand abide here for a little
For my heart is not hardened no King shall thou wed
But him that thou lovest--sweet was it to see thee

[f. 44, shorter page, possibly from different notebook]
Yea yea I have dreamed thy dear lips should kiss me
Wilt thou let it come true then this once and all over
As I swear me thy servant to seek thy well doing
O kind eyes O sweet lips that yet may not love me
O why then this once and no more O my darling
Must thou die must I die that it shall not be often
Nay now and no more only once may it be
And thou knowest it not that my lips lay on thy lips
In the first of that sunlight while the grass quivered round them
O great was my gain though the last kiss I called it
A how can'st thou know how I loved thee that moment
Wilt thou love more than I love what is left for thy loving?
Wakest [ck. orig.] than not dreaming and wilt thou thou awaken
Seeing all that thou art and then leave the world lonely?
So only mayst thou measure my desire unto thee
Crying forth in a moment By the years of thy long:
Hush now and hearken to the not busy noontide
The blossom heads bowing the rustlimg leaves oer us
The eager bees working the restless birds twitter
As with sun litten wings they flit through the garden
Let them stir and be eager and seek on till night
But let us not stir lest we lose our contentment
And yet wish for a little and chide the worlds laughter
[f. 45] Choose loss of all freedom choose hatred and ruin
And die for thy sake but to make thee unhappy
What have we not wrangled on the evening of battle
And was I always wrong when the next noon brought
Yea surely meseemeth the right side had I ever
But thy fortune full often would make it seem worse
And so well must it be now on thy way wend I
And true it may be that my fathers land holdeth
Ghosts of too many troubles of too many pleasures
That an old man may rest there the short while that remaineth
Yet if thou wouldst mock me for my haste and my armour
Yet hearken while I tell thee what fair days I lookedst
Fulfilled of great deeds and troubles oercome--
Lo in this our old world such strife did await us
That had we won through it we well might have called
Wight folk among warriors the dull hearted constable
If counselled full well fat peace the land lyeth
And thy great deeds are sunk into dreams of a singer
It had been the beginning these old days again
And many a time had we twain laughed at fortune
Till Pharamond waxed glorious again as aforetime
If their hopes amid trouble had made thee so happy
Think friend well beloved of the peace our hand holdeth
If they worship the faith of thy service grown great
How might I have borne the burden my father
Lowly hands spread about for the love that ye give me
Now weareth the day somewhat and my limbs are grown [weary]
With the weight of this armour and wend we not shipboard
In what land of the world shall we dwell from henceforward
Lo the red marble pillar that bears the gold Laurence [speaker]
There lieth the Nicholas ready for sea.
Friendly the master is and hath handsel of florins
For the land of the shepherd folk sail we this evening
Let us get us aboard then for this land groweth perilous
The old days are past over oer sweet swell the flowers
Come love sweet is life snatched out of the burning
Thus I hoped it would be that first moment I saw thee
This is better than many a thing I looked for
Too old am I gotten to learn ways of great peoples
Farewell for the last time O land of my fathers
Farewell feeble hopes that I once held so mighty
Little are when weighed gainst one word that we would have
Lo the world is all changed and we twain yet together. [flourish--poss. ends section]
[f. 46] When thou wilt awake to wonder who tends thee
And a fair time awaiteth thee there in hour homestead
A poor place folk call it & yet when thou seest
How the long pears hang in over the  little loft window
And the blue bowl with roses is near to thine hand
And over thy bed is the quilt sewn with lilies
And the loft hung round with the green
And all smelleth sweet as the little door openeth
And thou turnest to see me there standing and holding
Such dainties as may be thy new hunger to stay
Then well may I hope that thou wilt not
Thine old woes for a moment in the freshness and pleasure
And I shall be part of thy rest for a little
Whatever remaineth ere the week be worn over
And then who shall say? thou wilt tell me thy story
And what thou hast hoped once and striven to gain.
thou shalt see me and thy love and my pity as thou speakest
May be that thy pity shall mingle with mine
Yea and how sweet now this sitting beside thee
At this story's beginning whatsoer shall its end be
But hearken I hear the wheels on the highway
And hither they come O my love I am with thee
[f. 47] Whatsoever befall through all woe and rejoicing
And who strove but I and still ever it seemed
Amidst of my striving that a mist floated round me
And there was that place still devoid of her presence
I pray thee my King tell thy dream and delay not [end of f. 47]
[f. 48] Drew me back to the doubt and the trouble past over
It is past now and sweet seem the years of my seeking
The years of thy waiting for peace is between us-- [end of f. 48]

[ff. 49 blank]

[f. 50-52, marked in Cockerell's hand, "pg. 31, variant"]

My lord shall we lie here adown on the green sward
In this place that I love the best of your pleasance.
Many years have I watched the rose hedge a waxing
Over the row of the red and white lilies.
And this lime tree above us where the bees are so busy
Neath its little thin shade have I lain time agone.
When my two hands had held all the blossoms it bore
That now two great hampers would fill to overflowing
Lo those two pear trees mossy fruit laden,
As little as these lilies were I and my sister,
When the gardener hereby a goodly old carle then
Planted the slim things and gave them our names
Cicily and Oliver e’en now I see him
Stamping the mould round the roots of the saplings.
While there on the dew of the autumn we stood,
Dreams drifting around us so well remembered
As much as the moss now clings to the conduit,
Well I remember its marble stones smooth.
For I watched the masons as they laid them together
And clean lost my dinner one hot July noontide.
Do I weary you babbling bear with me a little
Smile a little my burden is lifted and ye know me
Dear friend and father fain were I to hearken
Your fair words a while but a fear is upon me
Lest the dimness of dreaming cover o’er me again.
When I see you but seeing you cannot remember
Your name and your story – so let me speak swiftly
Surely as strong as a man may be fashioned
As unwearied of work as hearty of hope
He may hold him someday with a doubt fall upon him
That all is for nought all deeds are many names
For one wasting of life that shall bring us to nothing
Time and again for as few as my years be
Has this fallen on me, to be soon thrust aside
Perchance by a pain perchance by a pleasure
By the press of the world or vague dreams of delight
So I deemed it would wear when a month now gone.
I awoke with this weight in the beginning of May
Thou wottest of my works in the [ ] that season
When a King’s work was over the smiths work began
Or the righter of wrong turned rymer and singer
That swiftly the hours might run on to bedtime
Yet mind care of the council and the hammer’s clanking
Mid counting of measures, lay coiled round my heart.
[f. 50v] This torment still tightening and in those many moods
When a man’s hand must stay and his mind turn upon him
Still I said to myself and why hast thou done them
These deeds that they tell of neither worser nor better
The world were without thee: this sword blade thou forge
They smith there wielded with thee at the wine cup.
This lay that lies there shall be but saw laughter
Twixt thy bard and his love capping verses together
And scarcely more toys than thy toil and thy [ ]
Are thy trials in battle thy cunning council
{Ah worse still what rest is left for the winning
With labor of beating the air thou art weary:}                                               
If thou desired this day that is passing
The next dream the world has is thy name gone forever
For nothing thou knowest but that thou has done nothing
And that nought is thy debtor for thy life and thy deeds
But cowards thoughts if we let them creep up on us
And many a time have I cast them aside
As I deemed I should do now driven into a corner.
Must each man turn to bay and do deeds worth doing
Or die in the shame – but e’en as I say it
I shrink from that word from thine eyes foster father
That erst saw me faring in fear and in trouble
In ways not unworthy me thy faith and thy love
Is it dead then my love is my faith all departed
Or was it thy deeds that thou deemedst I love
Not rather thy soul and thy body o son
Thou shalt shine through thy shame as the sun through the mist
When the warm day is coming and the world waiteth gladly
Ah but why should I lay this great woe upon thee
Thou hast won days of peace with thy past days of valor.
Thou deemedst the day of the old carle past over,
And his cunning all spent nay fear not but speak it
As in thought as unspoken is this foster father
Then tell me thy tale true it is I am old
If men tell my years and shriveled and shrunken
Is the arm that once struck strong strokes in the battle
Yet my heart is still young and no bolder it was
When I bore forth the banner in front of the barons
In the first day of fight that your father began
And thy father’s son ended – against all people’s hoping
O peace that thou wishest me! many times better
Now the springeth fresh in the eyes that I love with
To wander world over and seek for they longing
Yea if all lost by of things kingly I had once
And the folk called me who once crouched below me –
This is nought but the speech thou spakest before.
[f. 51] Lo thou deemest me spent and no stay to thy weakness.
Yet time was and not so long past that folk held me
A prop in the press and a stay to the fleeing –
Yea therefore have I trembled to see the change take thee
When the whole tale is told for my last hope thou art –
Yet harken – one night when that trouble was hardest
I lay on my bed heavy thoughts beating round me
Til in dawn of the day she drew near me and kissed me
In dreams of the morning she kissed and departed
Woe worth the while for thy wisdom gainst women.
[omit]
Said I not that fell surely thou wouldst start away from me
When thou knewst for a fool thy old lord and master
And yet howsoever thou hold it for folly
I would not forsake it I would not forget it.
For centuries the life ye would me to lead –
Nay listen I am looking despite all my sorrow
For a star to arise that shall lead me unto her.
Lo was I not want to rend tangles asunder
In the old days of battle when thou bearest my banner
Lo it thou bear it again now the world is grown worser
Or shall I wend forth alone on the ways,
Nay what was this dream? speak ere thou art wildered,
Yea have I not told it; thou friend and father
Thou knewest it not when fulfilled seemed world.
Of its glory and sweetness in the greyest of dawning
Was it sleeping or waking I gained my desire
In my bed that may morning methought I was lying
Amid measureless longing I knew not for why
When in what wise I knew not through wall or the rough doorways
I arose and went forth – the wide sea was below me
At whiles and at whiles were strange lands and thick darkness
And still I was longing amid pain amid laughter
For that which I knew not till lo I felt fainting
As if my life faded before change and death –
Yet so much I saw and not as if dreaming
But as through a mist a sweet space of meadows
Grey hills all around and a highway amidst them
But in the high pass that led down thereunto
A black space of forest – still fainter and fainter
I grew as I found by the highway side lying
A man worn and weary whose wan face was mind
By whom sat another one wrestling with sorrow
From hidden face sobbing, and his hands and his
Were of one I hold dear e’en thee foster father
But as I hung there beholding my image
Fast dying as I died as if heaven were opened
To have me there unto a sweet sound smote on me
And with lids sunk adown I awaited the change
[f. 51v] But lo then a restless feet falling near me
Sweet savour of flowers yea sweeter than all things
And a happiness filling my heart to high breaking
Till with feeble wide eyes of a healed man awakened
I looked and a face to my face was approaching
For I lay alow there not be my lost image
What bliss might be more than the bliss of that moment
Yet O me more came for her lips touched my forehead
And a hand touched my hand and I heard a voice speaking
Most pitiful words that awaking I know not
Then the dark void closed o’er and a dreaded heart sickened
Smote through my sleep and I knew myself lonely were.
And I woke mid white light as the world ablaze
Nor knew where I was but knew well of my longing
And then must I face the sunny May morning.
The flowers and the singing – yea faces of folk
With the face of a King and a voice duly measured
O mighty are men to bear marvel by anguish
Faithful hast thou found me O King heretofore
Dear son I will follow thee whereso fate draweth
Though with thy dreams beginning hath my dreams are ending
And Death may come on me ere I see thee awaken
Soothly such might I be as to strive here to stay thee
To bid thee be strong till thy folly fell from thee
I know not but thy faith and thy great heart I know
And that though the world fail me though will not forsake
And so as I speak now not worldly this seemeth
Self begotten of heart sickness and shadow of longing
For I know thee no dreamer in this world that thou lovest
No soft dealer with pleasures unearned and half cared for,
But keen eyed to see what thy heart would be seeking
And eager to seek the one thing thou needest
And truly thou sayest thou hast torn through all tangles
And why shouldst thou turn now from this thy desire
One thing dreadful I know well loves dominion
And thy dream shows it not; neither death nor departing
Nor world’s wrath nor waning of years and their change,
Nor water at its wildest nor fire at its fiercest
But the eyes that thou (seest that may not)(knowest who) – know thee no more
The heart whose laugh moves thee unmoved by thine anguish
O happy shalt thou live amid pain amid longing
Lying down as she lieth as she riseth arising
With desire unleasing not drawn on as some be
Through drift of vain hope and clouds of vain pleasure
To that rock of despair about the world’s ending
Are the waves and the winds that beat round its blackness
And was it Death lies beyond no rest to the weary
But come now thou wert King in many chains bound
But love came unto thee without any seeking
But now must thou seek; and what seemeth good to thee
[f. 52] Sweet words to hearken seest thou not father
How my eyes are grown bright and my cheek is grown ruddy
What should I do? When forth through the world
Till either I win her or find the world empty
And thy folk and thy faith and thy lordly life here
And fair fame hereafter of all this bethinks thee
Way father methinks I have toiled through the thicket
And there lie the fair fields for any man’s taking
A child’s hand may sway now the scepter I smythed
With the sweat of my brow and young blood no little
For the rest no mother or kindred remaineth
Love who will have me has made me his freedman.
Wilt thou wait there no while, lest perchance thou awaken
With thou sweet life all wasted and no turning back
Nay let me begone lest I die ere I feel
That at least I am doing some deed or the ending
And wilt thou begone ere the lords come to council
Yea I deem it a shame to look kingly and lie.
So endeth this life then nor will I look backward
O son well beloved to that we be left here
Now hearken this even in the outer haven
By goodhap there lieth all ready for sea
A ship of mine own that shall sail for the southland
When the tide is turned at the moonset this midnight
Outland her folk are and know not King Pharamond
By face or stature for since this thy sickness
Her master sailed in here and sold her to me.
So write a broad letter for thy lord and his squire
In this dromund to sail dear bought things to bring home
And see southland King’s doings – and this night go we on ship board
I whom they know and thou whom they know not
With gold for our needs and good hope of returning
Ere I lie in the earth with the love thou hast dreamed of
Lo is thy heart lighter and draws she not nearer
Ah said I not e’en mid my anguish
All days are nought since once I have loved her
All days are nought since at last I have loved her
Tomorrow – tomorrow my love shall be with me
Tomorrow we turn from the life our toil conquered,
X All changed is the world – and we twain yet together. [end of f. 52]

[f. 53 blank}

[ff. 54-58] [f. 54, marked in Cockerell's hand, p. 31, variant]

Master Oliver
My lord shall we lie here adown on the green sward
In this place that I love the best of your pleasance
Many years have I watched the rose hedge a waxing
Over the row of the red and white lilies
And this lime tree above us where the bees are so busy
Neath its little then shade have I lain time agone.
When my one hand had held all the blossoms it bore
That now two great hampers would fill to overflowing
Lo those two pear trees mossy fruit laden
As little as these lilies were I and my sister
When the gardener herebly a goodly old carle then
Planted the slim things and gave them our names
Cicily and Oliver e’en now I see him
Stamping the mould round the roots of the saplings
While there on the dew of the autumn we stood
Dreams drifting round us, yet so well remembered,
As much as the moss now clings to the conduit
Well I remembered its marble stones smooth
For I watched the masons as they laid them together
And clean lost my dinner one hot July noontide
– Do I weary you babbling bear with me a little,
Smile a little my burden is lifted and ye know me.

The King
Dear friend and father fain were I to hearken
Thy fair words a long while; but a fear is upon me
Lest the dimness of dreaming come o’er me again
When I see thee yet seeing thee, cannot remember
Thy name and thy story: so let me speak swiftly –
– Surely as strong as a man may be fashioned,
[f. 55] As unwearied of work as great hearted of hope
Yet shall weariness some days, and doubt fall upon him
That all is for nought, all deeds diverse names
For one wasting of life that shall bring us to nothing
Time and again for as few as my years be
Has this fallen on me; yet I thrust it aside
Perchance by a pain perchance by a pleasure
By the press of the world or vague dreams of delight
Thus I deemed it would wear by a month now past over
When I woke with this weight in beginning of May.
Thou wottest of my works in the smithy that season,
When my King’s work was over, my smith’s work began
Or the righter of wrong turned rhymer and singer
That swiftly the hours might run on to sleeping,
Yet mid care of the council or the hammers clanking
Or counting of measures, lay coiled round my heart –
This torment still tightening and in those many minds
When a man’s hand must stay and his mind turned upon him
Would I say to myself And why hast thou done them,
These deeds that they talk of, neither worser now better
They world were without them; this blade that thou forgest,
They smith would have welded wert thou at the winecup.
This lay that lies there were little but laughter
For thy poet and his love capping verses together
?And scarcely less toys than thy toil and thy
Are thy trials in battle, thy cunning in council
If thou art desired this day that is passing
The next dream the world has is thy name gone forever.
Ah, worse still what rest remains for the winning
When with labour of beating the air thou art weary
For nothing thou knowest, but that thou hast done nothing
And nothing is thy debtor for thy life and thy deeds
– Yea cowardly thoughts if we let them creep on us.
[f. 56] And many a time have I cast them aside
As I deemed I should do now driven into a corner.
Must each man turn to bay and do deeds worth doing
Or die in his shame – but e’en as I say it
I shrink from that word form thine eyes foster father
That erst saw me faring me in fear and in trouble
In ways now unworthy faith and thy love.

Master Oliver
Is it dead then my love is my faith all departed
Or was it thy deeds that thou deemedst I love
Not rather thy soul and thy body, o son?
Thou halt shine through thy shame as the sun through the haze
When the world waiteth gladly the warm day a coming.

The King
Ah but why should I lay this great woe upon thee
Thou hast won days of peace with thy past days of valor.

Master Oliver
Thou deemest the day of the old carle past over
And his cunning all spent nay fear not but speak it.

The King
As in thought as unspoken is this, foster father.

Master Oliver
Then tell thy tale: true it is I am old
If thou tellest my years o’er, and shriveled and shrunken
Is the arm that once struck strong strokes in the battle
Yet my heart is yet young, and no bolder I was
When I bore forth the banner in front of the barons
In the first day of the fight that thy father began,
And thy father’s son ended against all peoples hoping
O peace that thou wishest me many times btter
Now the love springeth fresh in thine eyes that I love
To wand world o’er and seek for thy longing.

The King
Yea? if all were cast by I had once of things Kingly
[f. 57] And the folk called me coward who once crouched before me?

Master Oliver
This is nought but the speech thou spakest before
Lo thou deemest me spent and no stay to thy weakness
Yet time was and not so long past that folk held me
And prop in the press and a stay to the fleeing.

The King
Yea therefore have I trembled to see the change take thee
When the whole tale is told for what hope after thee?
Yet hearken one night when that trouble was hardest
I lay on my bed heavy thoughts beating round me
When in dawn of the May she drew near me and kissed me –
In dreams of the morning she kissed and departed.

Master Oliver
Woe worth the while for thy wisdom gainst women
?O white hands full of woe who shall [ ] them the wall
That ye may not undo it? what mead is so fertile?
But wasted it lieth when a maid wendeth hither?
Come let us forth let us seek it full surely
Death we shall find at the worst and the latest.

The King
Said I not that I feared it, that thou wouldst start from me
When thou knewst for a fool thy lord and thy master?
And yet, howsoever thou hold it for folly
I would not forsake it I would not forget it.
For ten times the life ye would have me to lead –
Nay listen I am looking despite all my sorrow
For a star to arise that shall lead me unto her
Lo was I not want to rend tangles asunder
In the old days of battle when thou bearest my banner
Wilt thou bear it again now the world is grown worser
Or shall I wend forth alone on my way.

Master Oliver
Nay what was this dream? speak ere thou growst wildered.

[f. 58] The King
Yea have I not told it thou friend and father
Thou knowest it not! when the world seems fulfilled
Of its glory and sweetness in the greyest of dawning
Was it sleeping or waking I gained my desire
In my bed that May morning methought I was lying
Amid measureless longing I knew not for why
When in what wise I knew not through wall or the rough doorways
I arose and went forth – the wide sea was below me
At whiles, and at whiles were strange lands or thick darkness
And still I was longing amid pain amid laughter
For that which I knew not till lo I felt fainting
As if my life faded before change and death –
Yet so much I saw and not as it dreaming
But as if through a mist, a space of sweet meadows
Grey hills all around and a highway amidst them
And high up in the pass that led down to that valley
A black mass of forest; still fainter and fainter
I grew as I found by the highway side lying
A man worn and weary whose wan face was mine
By whom sat another one wrestling with sorrow
From hidden face sobbing and his hands and his face
Were of one I hold dear e’en thee foster father
But as I hung there beholding my image
Dying fast with my dying, as if heaven were opened,
To have me within it a sweet sound smote on me
And with lids sunk adown I awaited the change
But lo, then a rustle and feet falling near me
Sweet savour as of flowers – nay sweeter than all things
And a happiness filling my heart – nighs to breaking
Till with feeble wide eyes of a healed man awakened
I looked and a face to my face was approaching
For I lay alow there not be my lost image.
What bliss might be more than the bliss of that moment?

[f. 59 blank]

[f. 60] Yet O me it came for her lips touched my forehead
And a hand touched my hand I heard a voice speaking
Most pitiful words that awaking I know not
Then the dark void closed o’er and a dreaded heart sickened
Smote through my sleep and I knew myself lonely were.
And I woke mid white light as the world ablaze
Nor knew where I was but knew well of my longing
And then must I face the sunny May morning
The flowers and the singing – yea the faces of folk
With the face of a King and a voice duly measured
O mighty are men to bear marvellous anguish!

Master Oliver
Life sold for a dream yet maybe a due bargain!
Didst thou dream it again? did her kiss draw anigh thee?

The King
Never more Never more! have I slept since that morning?
I know not; it may be but sleeping or waking
I see the fair meadows laid waste and deserted
And then foster father when I may think somewhat –
I say I shall find her or surely some pleasure
Some dreams would she send me to stay my tormenting
So my pain is my pleasure for this too she giveth
To speed me the sooner the great gift to gain.

Master Oliver
Faithful hast thou found me O King heretofore
Dear son I will follow thee whereso fate draweth
Though with thy dreams beginning hath my dreams are ending
And Death may come on me ere I see thee awaken
Soothly such might I be as to strive here to stay thee
To bid thee be strong till thy folly fell from thee
I know not but thy faith and thy great heart I know
And that though the world fail me though will not forsake
And e’en as I speak now this thy dream scarcely seemeth,
[f. 61] Self begotten of heart sickness and shadow of longing
For I know thee no dreamer in this world that thou lovest
No soft dealer with pleasures unearned and half cared for
But keen eyed to see what thy heart would be seeking!
And eager to seek the one thing thou needest
And truly thou sayest thou hast torn through all tangles
And why shouldst thou turn now form this thy desire
One thing I know dreadful in all loves dominion
And thy dream shows it not, neither death nor departing
Nor water at its wildest, nor fire at its fiercest
Nor world’s wrath, not waning of years and their changes
But the heart-piercing eyes blind to thee and thy yearing
And the heart whose laugh moves thee unmoved by thine anguish
O happy shalt thou live amid pain amid longing
Lying down as she lieth as she riseth arising
With desire unleasing not drawn on as some be
Through drift of vain hope and clouds of vain pleasure
To that rock of despair about the world’s ending
Where prayers that help not, and bitter reproaching
Are the waves and the winds that beat round its blackness
And Death lies beyond no rest to the weary
So come now thou wert King and in many chains bound
And love came unto thee without any seeking,
But now must thou seek, and what seemeth good rede?

[f. 62] The King
Sweet words to hearken! seest thou not father,
How my eyes are grown bright and my cheek is grown ruddy
And this hast thou wrought with love and great wisdom.
What should I do? Wend forth through the world
Till either I find her, or find the world empty.

Master Oliver
And thy folk and thy faith, and thy lordly life here
And fair fame hereafter – of all this bethinks thee.

The King
Nay father methinks I have toiled through the thicket
And there lie the fair meads for anyones taking;
A child’s hand may sway now the sceptre I smithed
With the sweat of my brow and the blood of my body
For the rest there remaineth nor mother nor kindred
Love who will have me has made me this freedman.

Master Oliver
Wilt thou wait there no while, lest perchance thou awaken
With sweet life all wasted and no turning back?

The King
Nay let me begone lest I die ere I feel
That at least I am doing some deed ere the ending.

Master Oliver
And wilt thou by one ere the lords come to council?

The King
Yea, I deem it a shame to look Kingly and lie.

Master Oliver
So endeth life here then, nor will I look backward
O son well beloved to all we have left here
Now hearken; this even in the outer haven
By goodhap there lieth all ready for sea
A ship of mine own that shall sail for the southland.
When turned is the tide at the moonset this midnight
Outland her folk are and know not King Pharamond
By face or stature for since this thy sickness
Her master sailed hither and sold her to me
So write a broad letter for a lord and his squire
In this dromund to sail dear bought things to bring home
And see southland King’s doings – there this night – go we shipward
I whom they know with my squire whom they know not –
With gold for our needs and good hope of returning
Ere I lie in the earth with the love thou hast dreamed of
Lo is thy heart lighter; draws not thy love nigher?

[f. 63] The King
Ah said I not e’en mid my anguish
All days are nought since once I have loved her
All days are nought since at last I have loved her
Tomorrow – tomorrow my love shall be with me.

Master Oliver
Tomorrow we turn from the life our toil conquered,
And all changed is the world --and we twain yet together.

[f. 64, blank]

[f. 65 blue ruled paper, near fair copy, in Sydney Cockerell's hand marked, p. 31 in printed book, variant no. 2, 65-75]

Scene in the Kings garden
King Pharamond, Master Oliver.

Master Oliver

In this quiet place canst thou speak O my king
Where nought but the lilies can hearken our council?

King

What wouldst thou have of me, why came we hither?

Master Oliver

Dear lord, thou wouldst speak of the woe that weighs on thee

King

Wouldst thou bear me aback to the strife and the battle?
Nay hang up my banner, for my wars are well over

Master Oliver

Speak but a little, have I not loved thee?

King

Yea thou art Oliver I saw thee a lying
A long time ago with the blood on thy face,
When my father wept oer thee for thy faith and thy valour

Master Oliver

Years have past over but my faith hath not failed me
Spent is my might, but my love not departed
Come hither for helping! yea, look long in my eyes,
There is no more to see if thou sawest my heart

King

Yea thou art Oliver full of all kindness!
Have patience for now is the cloud passing over
I dream through the day, through the empty night season
But never more dream of my darling departed
Thou art talking of help and thou feelst thy self mighty
Who wouldst turn away feeble if my heart lay before thee
Have patience, and hearken yet shalt thou be shamed

Master Oliver

Thou shalt shine through thy shame as the sun through the haze
[f. 66] When the world waiteth gladly the warm day a coming.
As great as thou seemst now, I know thee for greater
Than thy deeds done and told of one day I shall know thee,
Lying dead in my tomb I shall hear the world praising

King

Thy words stay my speech--does the world praise the Kings
Who have cast by their honour because of a woman?

Master Oliver

But what woman wields thine? I have known thee the friend
Of all men of fame told of today or in story

King

Yea, as free as the slave in the market a lying,
Who winneth no work because no man buys him
I tell thee full often as I rode in the triumph
And the roar of mens gladness went up to the heavens,
If some maiden's face gazing from grey eyes unfathomed
Has moved me to thinking, and why have I done them
These deeds that men cry on? and when comes the crowning
While he that she loves with one little kiss won him
Days full of desire and longing and worship
And a dream that comes true with every days waking
Or when dames of the court made their faces full reverent
When they saw the King coming, full oft I bethought me
What eyes in her face, if we twain were together,
She in fear and in faith I in fulness of joy
Her helper midst all when the foemen are many!

Master Oliver

Thou wouldst love and thou lovedst not and who shall say wherefore

King

Many deeds to be done, and a short while to live

Master Oliver

Nay this thing thou speakest een from the teeth outward
The time never lacketh for quenching our hunger

[f. 67]

King

Many false loves there are long it takes to find truth

Master Oliver

Truth is found by the trying, and Loves folk are fearless
Like no lover thou speakest I wot not thy meaning

King

Many eyes we may look on that will not behold us

Master Oliver

Thou are King Pharamond, fair young and happy

King

In one thing am I wise now I bid thee be wary
When thou seest a youth sink his eyes before women
Through the mist of a fair faces, one maiden he seeth
Who cometh to meet him een now as he dreameth--    

Master Oliver

Yea and swiftly she cometh as fair as her fellows,
And he deems her the first and last thing of Gods making
O son, I am old but remember the sweetness
Of summers long past when the limes bloomed as this one
And surely thy trouble shall turn to rejoicing
But tell me that I too may toil in her service

King

Thou knowst not what thou sayest full oft have I seen
Such women as all the world well might desire
And now and again my heart beat for a moment,
And the next moment vainly I strove to remember
What pleasure it was that had passed by my eyes
What lacking and pain filled my heart with desire.

Master Oliver

What is left then to say but this that I love thee,
Die not unholpen while yet I am living?

King

Great love little might! hearken now and be merry
For a tale shall be told then of a King of much people
[f. 68] A king full of fame, who turned from fair women
To a dream that the night had made for his downfall
And none might help none yea so helpless and lost
That through all dreams of day through all dreams of the night
Never more might that face draw nigh to behold him

Master Oliver

Woe worth thy words though I wot not their meaning
O wilt thou not tell me for I tremble, beholding
Thine eyes where the anger midst pain is a gathering
As though thou beheldest the whole world against them
So it is not, I am by and I love thee, my master
I at the least, though the last I may be

King

In the dawn of the May she drew near me and kissed me
In dreams of the morning she kissed and departed,
And no dreaming by day now, no dreaming by night tide
Bring[s] ever again my darling to see me.

Master Oliver

O me! tell me thy dream ere again thou grow wildered

King

Thou shalt mock me when thou hearest, and my worship and honour
Thou shall see swept away like a stone by the tide.
I will tell it thee not--Yet one day thou shalt see her,
For now am I going alone without glory
To seek her and gain her or find the world empty.

Master Oliver

More dreadful today is with ruin's fulfillment,
Then yesterday's dread drifting back upon hope!
And yet who am I with my wisdom to question
My King and my leader wilt thou once again lead me
Wheresoever thou goest? for what land is my country
But where thou abidest? what work hath God given
But to follow and serve thee, O my King O my son.

[f. 69] King

Fair shineth thy faith from amidst of thy sorrow
And great heart thy love giveth me, O foster father
Look now in mine eyes, and behold if they wander
Was my face firmer set to the forefront of battle?
I shall find her someday and a fair life thence forward.

Master Oliver

Ah, and nought is left here to make thy life fair then!

King

Yea the death that draws near may be better than longing

Master Oliver

Woes me for the hope that I had on that morning
Of strife turned to peace when een men must go weeping
For the joy of thy deeds done and the peace after winning
And through the [eyes?] ran like a runover from heaven
For who spake the word first all hail Pharamond the Freed
And then when I looked on thy beauty and brightness
And the hope of thy life, then how fair my fate seemed
That I too full of years to see thy youth wasted
Should wend on my ways in the midst of thy glory--

King

Dost thou not know me a tearer through tangles
Wouldst thou have me turn trembling from this my desire
Hast thou clean forgotten how thou bearedst my banner
When my Kings name was made but a mock to any foemen
And what befell after? fain am [I] to have thee
For my best days have followed thy fellowship ever.
And so still shall it be for the day star ariseth

Master Oliver

Nay deem not I falter or fail thee O master
Forgive me these tears of an old man and feeble
Who had spent many hopes ere thy first hope began.
But now tell me thy dream that at least
Such grains of good hope as are left for the gleaming.

[f. 70] King

A month past it is at beginning of May tide
Since a great and sore heaviness fell on my heart,
Causeless and nameless, and I would none should know it
For I deemed it would pass amid labour or pleasure
An eager King was that tide in the council
A sword smithed full eager when the council was ended
And the fire streamed up from the blast of the stithy
Eagerly strove I with ryme and with measure
Eager I rode oer the fell and the forest,
Or cried out to the foam of the following billows.
Or death in laws tangle and gave doom on ill doers
All was for nought, and nought was I lightened
Till in midst of the May tide, in greyest of dawning
Was it sleeping or waking? I gained my desire
In my bed that May morning methought I was lying
Amid measureless longing, I knew not for why
When in what wise I knew not, through window or doorway
I arose and went forth the wide sea was beneath me
At whiles, and at whiles were strange lands or thick darkness
And still was longing amid pain amid laughter
For that which I knew not, till lo, I felt fainting
As if my life faded before change and death
Yet I looked down, and saw, and that not as if dreaming
But as if through a mist, a space of sweet meadows,
Grey hills all around, and a highway amidst them,
And high up in the pass that led down to the valley
A black mass of forests still fainter and fainter
I grew, as I found by the highway side lying
A man worn and weary whose wan face was mine     
By whom sat another one wrestling with sorrow
From hidden face sobbing: and his hands and his mien
Were of one I hold dear--een of thee foster father.
[f. 71] But as I hung there, beholding my image
Dying fast with my dying, as if heaven were opened
To have me within it, a sweet sound smote on me,
And with lids sunk adown I awaited the change
But lo then, a rustle, and feet falling near me
Sweet scent as of flowers nay sweeter than all things
And with wide feeble eyes of a sick man awakened
I looked and a face over my face was hanging
For I lay alow there not he, my lost image
And that face was the thing that fulfilled all my longing
And as the wide wistful eyes gazed down upon me
Wise grew my heart beyond wisdom of men
And I knew what all seek for if they might
Yet there I lay sick unto death, and complaining
With pityful prayers of life passing away
Till all pain faded out in a flame of delight,
As her lips moving softly with words of beseeching,
Her lips laid on my lips, her tears and mine
Then the dark void closed oer me, and a dreadful heart sickness
Smote through my sleep as I knew my self lonely,
And I woke mid white light as the word were a blaze
Nor knew where I was, but knew well of my longing
And then must I meet the sunny May morning
The flowers and the singing, yea faces of folk,
With the face of a King and a voice duly measured
--O mighty are men to bear marvellous anguish!

Master Oliver

Life sold for a dream! yet maybe a due bargain!
So little to lose that my heart groweth lighter-

King

What sayst thou friend: wilt thou bear the fools banner
As thou bearedst the Kings in the old days of battle.

Master Oliver

[f. 72] Thy folly shall be mine, and thy sorrow my sorrow

King

And yet howsoever thou hold it for folly
I would not forsake it, I would not forget it.
For ten times the life ye would have me to live
Nay listen, for this even her hand leads me onward

Master Oliver

And thy folk and thy faith and thy lordly life here
And fair fame hereafter--of all these bethink thee

King

Nay father, methinks I have toiled through the thicket
And there lie the fair meads for any ones taking
A child's hand may sway now the sceptre I smithed
With the sweat of my brow and the blood of my body
For the rest there remaineth nor mother nor kindred,
Love who will have me has made me his freedman

Master Oliver

Wilt thou wait then no while? lest perchance thou awaken
With dear life all wasted, and no turning backward

King

Nay, let me begone lest I die ere I feel
That at least I am doing some deed ere the ending

Master Oliver

And wilt thou begone ere the lords come to council?

King

Yea, I deem it a shame to look Kingly and lie

Master Oliver

So endeth life here then! nor will I look backward
Son well beloved to all we have left here
Now hearken--This even in the outer haven
By goodhap there lyeth all ready for sea!
A ship of mine own that shall sail for the southlands
[f. 73] When turned is the tide at the moonset this midnight
Outland her folk are, and know not King Pharamond
By face or by stature, for since this thy sickness
Her master sailed hither and sold her to me
So write a broad letter for a lord and his squire
In thin dromond to sail dear bought things to bring home
And see southlands kings doings--then this night are we shipward,
I whom they know with my squire whom they know not
With gold for our needs, and good hope of returning,
Ere I lie in the earth, with the love thou hast dreamed of
Lo, is thy heart lighter draweth not thy love nigher?

King

Ah, said I not een mid mine anguish,
All days are nought since once I have loved her
All days are nought since at last I have loved her--
Tomorrow, tomorrow my love shall be with me!

Master Oliver

Tomorrow we turn from the life our toil conquered
And all changed is the world--and we twain yet together.

[f. 74] Love is enough who grew up without heeding
In days wherein ye knew not his name not his measure
And his [----?] untrodden by the  light feet of pleasure
Showed no boast of the blossom no sign of the seeding
As the morning and evening passed over his treasure
And what will ye say then that the spring long departed
Has brought forth no summer to depart and no flowers
We slept and we dreamed through the scent and flowers
We dreamed of the winter and awaking dead heard
Found winter upon us and a waste of dull hours
Nay the spring was oer happy and knew not the reason
And summer dreamed sadly for she thought all was ended
In her fullness of wealth that might not be was ended
But this is the nascent and the garnering season
And the leaf and the blossoms in the ripe fruit are blended
It sprang without sowing it grew without weeding
Ye knew not its name and ye knew not its measure
Ye heeded it not mid your hope and your pleasure
There was pain in its blossoms and pain in its seeding
But by your bosom now nurses its treasure
Has brought forth no child of the softness and showers
That we slept and we dreamed through the [garden?] of flowers
Lo you my lord I hold this place most fair
Of all your pleasance: fruitful year by year
A many years now have I watched it grow
The rose hedge rising oer the fragrant row
Of lilies white and reds in my young time
Two hands would hold the blossoms often time
That now two goodly baskets full would make
[f. 74v] The master gardner for my sisters sake
When she was lower than a lily stem
Planted those pear trees there and watered them
With holy water from a church. And I
When masons made the conduit was thereby
And lost my dinner watching stone fit stone.
And mossy enough the marble now has grown
Amid this softness might I dream full well
And rest perchance if I had not to tell
My tale to thee: so it is I dread
Lest this confusion float across my head--
And make all dim--then though I see thy face
It is as if across a dark watery place
I cannot cross I grow so dull with pain
That I might scarcely move my bliss to gain
If that should pass before me listen how
This thing upon my heart has seemed to grow
A month agone perchance in early May
When I was happy in my wonted way
There fell upon me a great heaviness
Which I was full loath to confess
Een to myself as deeming it no more
Than such as I had dealt with oft before
Some wonder wherefore I was born on earth
And what to do: some doubting of the worth
Of all the things for which I erst had striven
Some sense of being all wrong and unforgiven
Disgust of life mingled with fear of death
And many such like which the happy saith
Come of foul weather oer great toil or wine.

[74v-94 alt. version?]

[f. 74v] But wherefore hath no trouble to divine
Now I who have lived happily enow
Yet always feared that such wind might blow
As yet might wreck my ship gainst such a sand
Therefore have I been busy in my land
And many others as thou knowest, and tried
To cast false shows away on every side
And cling to real things fast at whiles indeed
My heart was rough to those in heavy need
And I have thought but why will such an one
Go about dull and heavy when the sun
Rises and lets each day and wind and rain
Beat round the world and without grief complain
The sea sings a restless but unwearied tale
The trees and meadows bloom and know no ill
And bird and beast fear not before they die:
And if man liveth somewhat haplessly
Yet doth he make a story for the wise
[f. 75] Wherefore to hearkening ears and seeing eyes
Here is a play set forth so cast of pain
And out of all pain what there is to gain
Ere ye depart So said I doubting not
That unto me had fallen the wise mans lot
To sit and see this play not play in it
Only I feared sometimes that I might sit
Somewhat too long and weary of it all
And even this I thought might then befall
That time I tell you of and you may mind
How hard I set myself some work to find
To dull my piercing thoughts--yea surely sire
For work we played with iron and with fire
As often erst, and smithied arms full good
And you made verses well had stirred my blood
Had I been younger, arms that none shall bear
And verses made to no one loved or dear
How should that help one. Well one morn I lay
Awake about the middle of the May [end of f. 75]

[ff. 77, p. 81 in printed book variant; blue ruled paper, near fair draft]

Shall gleam through the grass on two deadly white faces
So the world is well over, and where shall we waken
Did God make all this and forget loves rewarding?
Yet more the mist lightens, and lo I behold now
Twixt its wind lifted waves some glimpses of grey rocks
Not so dim sail the rocks overhead, and the larks song
Is louder and clearer: we shall die in the sunlight
Nay, do men dwell anigh here, that I hear sounds of music
Or is it indeed death bringing rest hither?
O hearken sweet son hast thou might to arise now
And look somewhat around thee for the fair sun ariseth
Still he sleeps; will he waken? for wide now around us
Through thin veil of mist lies the cliff bounded valley
Will he waken too late? O would God I had dreamed it
That well I might know if this were his dreamland

Music (from afar)

Dawn talks to day
Over dew gleaming flowers
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glisten,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world fain would listen
O Love set a word in my mouth for our meeting
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart beating
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!

Master Oliver

O wake son and hearken, for the words well I hear now
Words of love are they, and the light mist is melting.

[f. 78] The Music

Morn shall meet noon
While the flower stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken
Bright thine eyes shine
Though the leaves thy brows darken
O love kiss me into silence lest no word avail me
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breathing and life fail me
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!

Master Oliver

Wake up King Pharamond fight for thy life now!
For these are the hills and the fields of thy vision!

The Music

Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake
Eyes soft with bliss
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake

Master Oliver

Lo he smileth in sleep, and his wan visage softens
[f. 79] Is it this that death softens the face of the dying?

The Music

Eve shall kiss night
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
Oer the grass of the plain
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy nights sleeping
And on my mouth there lies
The sweet rain of thy weeping
Hold silence love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad hearted
O kind day O dear day, short day come again!

Master Oliver

Lo the sun cometh over the tops of the mountains
And before him a maid with his light in her hair
A calm face that smiles not, and bosom yet heaving
With the sweet song I heard--yet he will not awaken
Waken, King Pharamond! fair is the maiden
Beyond daughters of men, and she draweth night to us

(enter Bertha)
Lo now how she cometh in no glorious garments
Blue kirtled and bearing a basket of wares
Firm are her feet as she goes down the highway
With frank eyes she gazeth the wide world to greet
Waken King Pharamond! she stays to behold us
Lo the dark forest high up in the pass there,
The grey sloping hills and the garden like me
Wake up and gaze on the gates of thy dreamland
Woes me! will she pass us and he never wakens?
Bide a while maiden! turn hither and help us!

Bertha

Poor man what ails thee that my small might may help?
[f. 80] Why lieth  he there, the fair man asleeping?
Yet he smileth as one happy-nay now but he trembleth
And tears start neath his eyelids-knowst thou aught of his sorrow?

Master Oliver

Happy days has he had and is drawn nigh to death
Pray God that he passeth not een as we speak it!

Bertha

Let me see him for in  leechcraft some skill have I gotten
Nay no present death on this sweet face therelieth
Lo his hands move towards me--yet he wilt not awaken
Wend on thou old man, if thou mayst to my father
And bid him bring hither his haycart to fetch him
I will watch him the while, for a herb groweth hereby
That hath marvellous might to help men over wearied
Hasten forth on the highway, and some half a mile further?
Thou shalt pass by the knoll where grow three great oak trees
And there on the other side deep in the orchard
Thou shalt come to our homestead a cot poor enow
And there shall he come my father from field.
To his dinner for yet low is the sun: and for token
Show this lace from my bosom and bid him bestir
Weep not, nor be sorry for all shall be well yet.

Master Oliver

Well be thou damsel, as my dear son thou watchest
If he waken and cry for me, tell him I come soon.

Exit Oliver

Bertha (speaking softly)

Woes me for thy sorrow, fair man! if thou showst me
Would it please thee to see me weep thus for a stranger
Nay my tears shall not wet thy poor hands, that tremble
As that tear fell upon them: I will go further from thee.
Too fair is thy face that thou shouldst be sorry
For thou wert well loved belike, in thy land.
Is that long ago? have evil folk hurt thee
[f. 81] Art thou thinking of this as thy tears flow again?
Ah fain would I have in the cool of our garden
With pleasant things round thee--how rent is thy raiment
That once has been goodly: in the red chest therewith
The web that I wove last winter--for thee--
Shall I dare to touch thee when thou hast awakened
Woes me how thou tremblest! yet I touched thee not roughly,
Thou wert dreaming of trouble. Wise seemeth thy visage
Thou hast dealt with great men and seen great mens daughters
If thou couldst but dream now that I have wept for thee
For no one will tell it! and thou, wilt thou tell me
Thy trouble when thou hast awaked and looked on me
I would I knew all now, and what thy last words were!
Heaven help me! for why does the world seem so empty?
The bright day so strange and the birds song so weary?
And why are the wishes my heart had at dawning
No longer wished now and this pain round my heart
Am I not pale? a strong maiden I deemed me
No ill worker afield, and as good to my father
As many a man- and yet how I feel fainting
Is it death draweth on me? then surely are dying
The dear kiss I might give to this my companion
Will he deem it ungentle since both we are dying?
Forgive me dear friend, I am feeble and love thee

King (awaking)

Why hast thou wakened me so soon foster-father?
For I dreamed I was dead and my sorrow all ended.
And in heaven itself I awoke and beheld her,
And sore was she weeping for my sorrow all ended

[at this point jumps to new version]
Nay bend down to hearken-- she called me companion,
And her face came anigh and her lips kissed my lips.

Bertha

Thy fellow, fair man, is gone, and I watch thee
[f. 82] I was weak even now, and bent down for faintness
Forgive me that I woke thee: shall I sing thee to slumber
For sick hast thou been and much talking shall hurt thee

King (raising his head)

[also overlaps f. 39] O wondrous! I dreamed that my dream passed away
And I was awake, yet fulfilled of contentment
Yea and een now as the daylight falls on me
Past is the pain and the weary unresting,
So I know I am dying, and the dear God of Heaven
Has remembered my deeds and my life without guilt
Good art thou hope, while the life yet torments us,
But a better help now have I gained than thy goading
Farewell O life wherein once I was merry
O Dream of the world I depart now, and leave thee
A little tale added to thy long drawn out story--
Yet strange as the light fades once more from my eyes
How once more I behold the rock wall of the grey fenced meadows
The dark wood in the pass and the white winding highway,
The green grass round my head--and now, now Heaven opens,
Nought but her and her hands and her face through the ages!

Bertha (rising up)

What hath happened that I held him to my heart in my terror
And cried out as he cried, and fell trembling upon him
And awoke with the sun turned to blackness and shame
Till I saw that he slept like a child after playing?
And why am I weeping with anguish of pleasure
My lips wet with his tears and mine mingled together
His hand closed on mine, his desire and his dreaming
So deep in my heart, that a dream and a picture
Is my life in these fields, and all things familiar?
Why make many words? Love hath fallen upon me
That once in sweet songs was a fair word and gentle
But now is my life amid sleeping and waking
[f. 83] Yea my death it may be ere the end of the story.
Yet bear witness thou day that hath brought my love hither
Thou sun that burst out through the mist oer the mountains
In that moment mine eyes turned afar to behold him
Bear witness ye fields that have fed me and clothed me,
And air I have breathed and earth that hath borne me
Though I find you but shadows and wrought but for fading
Though all ye and God fail me, my love shall not fail
Yea, if even this love that seemeth such pleasure
As no God is worthy of turneth to pain--
If he wake without memory of me and my weeping
With a name on his lips not mine, that I know not
If this my hand leave his hand for the last time,
And no word for his lips be kind for my comfort,
If all speech fade between us, all sight fail me henceforth
If all hope and God fail me, my love shall not fail
It was idle speech love, this talk of thy dying,
For those sleepest full sweet, and the fever falls from thee.
Thanked be the carline that learned me some leechery
Not long lasted my terror; and soon the time cometh
[end overlap f. 39] When thou wilt awake to wonder who tends thee
And a fair time awaiteth thee there in our homestead,
A poor place folk call it and yet when thou seest
How the long pears hang in oer the little loft window,
And the blue bowl with roses is near to thine hand,
And over thy bed is the quilt sewn with lilies,
And the loft is hung round with the green southland hangings
And all smelleth sweet as the little door openeth
And thou turnest to see me there standing and holding
Such dainties as may be, thy new hunger to stay,
Then well may I hope that thou wilt not remember
Thine old woes for a moment in the freshness and pleasure
And that I shall be part of thy rest for a little.

[seems transition here, Gregory is speaking]
[f. 84; changes from blue to white ruled paper] ]Since a stark lad I was in the days of King Dagobert

King

Nay goodman, nought is its come look on my hammer
When my strength is at full and my hand is grown steady

Gregory

Much would have more, guest; for a gift would I ask yet
The greedy old carle has no shame of nay saying

King

Nay my hands may not do all my heart would do for thee

Gregory

Well then: art thou as handy to hammer on silver,
As on stubs and grey iron? wilt thou win me work herein?

Oliver

Nay silver is scant in our world as meseemeth
Little marvel if we have forgotten that cunning

King

Be merry O fosterer! yet thou knowst me craftsmaster
In gold and in silver, and all armour lacketh.

Gregory

Well, this way it lieth: some old florins have I
I would pray thee to fashion into gauds for my daughter
Thou mayst think it but sport to know how fair I find her,
But I am grown old now in noting her growing
In grace and in goodliness een as the years grew,
Till at last I behold her as one lighted down hither
From Heaven and the angels, and who shall say wherefore
Besides it were seemly, since so well I love thee
That she should have somewhat these days to remember
And thy dreariness turned to rejoicing among us,
When the wise world hath drawn thee away from our valley
Why growest thou pale? hath a pain come upon thee?

King

Nay nay it is past--before I depart hence
I will strive for her pleasure, and think it but little.

[f. 85] Gregory

Thanked be thou: but afield now must I lightly begone
Fare ye well guests! and full fain were my heart
If ye ever abode here: for a chosen folk are ye.

Exit Gregory--

King

Thou smiles now fosterer but so it may be yet

Oliver

What, after such words as thou spakest last evening!
When thou wert a praising thy past life of battle
For the pleasure and softness that striving had won her

King

Lo we boast all alone when our love feeleth mighty
But woes me! it may be, her love, mighty also
Shall pass by my love in the dark, and ne[']er meet it
Then may God make her happy! but for me I shall dwell here
And comfort my heart with the sweet loving kindness
She hath for all creatures that for me peradventure
May be more abundant, when despite of the blindness
Her heart may not choose but feel my hearts blessing

Oliver

Despite of the blindness shall both we wend backward
To the old home and glorious if thou winnest her love?

King

Yea, have I not said it? why was I born King then
But to cast all before her? my crown and my honour,
The banners my blood stained, the tale of my troubles
And the triumphs they won, and the love of my people

Oliver

Than all hail the home of the Kings of my fathers!
All hail ye fair streets, whose stones my tears fell on
When first I felt love! how soon I shall see you!
How shall ye seem twixt the hills of the sea.

King

I know what thou would'st say: for thou deemest she loves me

Oliver

[f. 86] Delay not too long lest she die of desire

King

Dear friend thou art old now, all thy loves of years bygone
Are gathered together to fall upon me
Till thou deemest my worn heart and storm battered body
Is the wealth of the world for all women to kneel to
All passeth for nothing--what, know ye how little
God worshipped in heaven is loved by a lover?

Oliver

O sweet fear and hope, son! will it be any better
When an hour is gone by, and all fear is departed,
And her craving made manifest somewhat discrowns her
Of her might and high place, for thou shalt be master?

King

May God make me lower than the dust her feet tread on
If I fear not and tremble each hour that I see her!
May God make me hapless, if my heart fail to show her
All happy days in her hands hollow lie!

Oliver

Well, well be not wrath a little time is there
To talk in what wise our returning shall be--

King

Why but a little time O foster father?

Oliver

Lo hither she fares from far down the mead there
From elm tree to elm tree; how her heart will be beating
As beateth thine heart now, for thou didst behold her
And hopedst she was turning here long ere I told thee.

King

Well tell on thy tale of thy hopes of returning

Oliver

I will go to the hayfield and greet master Gregory
And speak of our great love to him and his daughter
[f. 87] I shall tell him moreover that thou art a merchant
A rich man among men, and bid him wend with us.
And sell his lands here, since a sweet land is ours

King

And shall she go with me, when who knows what she loveth
These meadows these mountains what folk she finds dear?

Oliver

Thou wouldst weary most men son, she loves no man but thee
Fare thee well! as I tell my tale there to the goodman
I shall think of thy tale and thy manifold pleasure
Nay stay me thou mayst not -- for lo here hath she found thee
(Enter Bertha)

King

Where hast thou been fair maiden this morning
That so long I have missed thy speech and thy kindness
Thou seemst heavy of heart though thou smilest upon me
Hath aught evil happened and thou never told me

Bertha

Nay nought but thou too art pale on this morning
Tell me thy pain how so sorry it makes me

King

Thy face is so near I am een fain to tell thee
Of a pain fierce enough: look up for a little
Nay nay it is nought I rose early this morning,
For the night was unrestful, and wrought in the stithy
Maybe I am weary therewith and down hearted
I deemed thou wouldst hearken the clink of my hammer
And come to behold me: but with much art thou busied

Bertha

Thy thy might not too much; we may yet call thee sick

King

Such I would not be soothly; a long way lies before me

Bertha

Overwide is the world since God maketh folk friends

King

A long way to go and who knows what awaits me
[f. 88] Wouldst thou listen if I were to tell thee a story
Of a man who was mighty and rich among all me
Till desire made nought of his might and we did him?

Bertha

Yea surely so many sweet words have thy lips said
To this last I may listen before thou departest

King

Too happless a tale it might prove in the telling
For these happy minutes that may not be many,
Fair memories I crave for the long way before me
But thou tell me rather why thou hast been weeping

Bertha

A story full idle: thou wilt not regard it
I have been a long way ere yet thou wert waking

King

Tell me! tell me all! in what which thou arosest
And what light was in heaven when thy raiment went rustling,
Through the lily stems here, and what air met thy mouth,
And what sounds of the morning were sweet to thy ears
What flowers thy feet fell on what folk touched thy hand,
And how thou wert fain of lips that kissed thine

Bertha

No folk have I met to be vain of but thee
No love have I followed--but wilt thou forgive me
If I tell thee a tale of a dream that hath grieved me.

King

What! is it not gone then the hour of dreaming?

Bertha

In one way alone do I dream without slumber
And who knows what our King some hour may
But this I dreamed sleeping: nay, seek not thy heart nor send me
Mid things far away? wouldst thou have me keep silence?

King

Woes me if thou knowst not that henceforth forever
[f. 89] Through all sounds that the world hath thy voice I shall wait for

Bertha

Right weary I went to my bed
Yet nor est I won there, no sleep would stay with me
So I rose as dawn drew near and did on my raiment
And went forth in the moonset while yet dew were the roses
And followed the way toward the ful often fells
To see how the ewes fared and the horses past working

King

Woes me that I lay there and listened and heard thee
And thy feet moving lightly and yet feared to follow

Bertha

There is little to tell but thou cravedst a long story
turned from the highway through the long grass and clover
Grey under the four stars, as the first of dawn spread,
By the brook side I went and the water hen chuckled
Een in that early time, and afar through the coolness

The cows lowed at whiles: dark waiting for sunrise
The stream ran beside me till I came to the shallow
And crossed it and my feet craved for sunlight as it did,
They awhile a wind rose behind me.
And wafted the garden scents over the meadows;
And there for my folly, as fair as the time was
Heart sickness fell on me and I fain had turned backward
Until I remembered my bed that abode me
And the bitter unrest of the night scarcely ended

King

And true I lay wondering what way thy feet       on,
As blind as night was I, as its wailing wind helpless.

Bertha

So still I went on, and a long way I wended
Through the wide spreading meadows and at whiles was I weeping

King

Thy tears may be sweet, but are not mine shameful.
[f. 90] Sure of blindness they sprang and shame that divideth

Bertha

And passed was the plain and the cliffs I was come to
And the slopes that cast down in dead days of the world
Break through the grey wall with a sweet grassy valley
And there I sat down and awaited the sunrise
And the dust of the long seeded grass I had gone through
Lay all yellow and grey on the midst of my gown skirts
And may hair spread about was grown heavy with dew,
For the heavens had no cloud for the sunlight to redden
All glorious and golden oer the wastes he arose now
Like a new world I thought where folk yet may be happy

King

Why did I weep in the face of the sunrise
When thou wert in the world, yet to make all folk happy

Bertha

There was sun on the plain but no sun in the valley
Where I found my sheep grazing amid the grey rocks
And there as my wont was a short while I wandered
And plucked the blue milkwort, and heads of white clouds
To weave into a wreath for the ewe that I loved best,
Mine own little lamb while I yet was called
Then I sat down and called her and she came  to me
While I said to myself, a long way have I wended
And I know not for why; and I fain would go further
know not for why: then I rose and turned backward
With my heart beating fast as I ran down the slopeside
And hurried yet breathless across the broad plain

King

Didst thou feel thyself lonely? did love lie before thee
The world and thy longing now sweet to behold it!

Bertha

The sun was full hot as I came to the brookside
And I stayed in the midst of the stepping stones there,
[f. 91] While the ripple ran past me, till I longed for its freshness
And fared back to a willow hung pool that I wot of
Where the sand is full smooth, and the meadow sweet bloometh
Down the bank at the deep end; and there did I bathe me
And then gathered a bunch of the yellow white blossoms
And lay down in the shaded grass under the willows,
And there slumber drew oer me, and when I awakened
This dream I had dreamed--I know not how to tell thee

King

Thou growst paler so speaking, thy hand is gone from me
Thy soft look is passing--is the last pain to come yet?

Bertha

Thine eyes are grown angry, and hard is thy voice now
hearken, and help me! not long is the story
Or else were it better to leave it
Since the time is so short that we twain are together

King

Nay nay tell me quickly! confusion of terror
Amid hope falleth on me; confusion of all things:
Have I left all and followed and found it at last
To be left here alone holding Death in my bosom?

Bertha

O what wouldst thou? I dreamed through these meadows I wandered
With one that I love and O well were we [then crossed out]
I never was happier than since first I beheld thee.
As we went hand in hand telling tales of our loving.

King

Does he love thee? did he long for thee all the world over?

Bertha

It was but a dream, in my dreaming he loved me

King

May thy life be a dream then! may I die to behold it!

Bertha

What sayst thou O dear one! wilt thou hearken the ending
[f. 91] Methought it grew dark, and on loving hands sundered,
And I spread, out my arms and sought to cling round him
But nothing; was anigh me, and moaning I wandered
Until night turned to day, and these meads to a palace
Wherein I stood goldclad, folk goldclad about me
With glad faces and kind and they said the king waits thee.
Then I trembled--with woes or with joy or with wonder?
I knew not; but I knew I was there to be wedded
To a great King of men, and the heralds were crying
His name through the streets, and mine mingled with it
As slow I went forth to the place where he waited,
But ere my foot passed oer the threshold I wakened,
Remembering no whit the high name that was named there
I wakened to woe--for this dream I dreamed often
Or even thou earnest here, and liked it full little
But now thou art come has its trouble turned terror
No doubt of pain coming to threatening of death
Death of love, death of life--ah! Why lookst thou so dreadful?
Have I hurt thee? or hast thou too dreamed dreams of undoing?

King

O kind hand, O dear hand abide here for a little!
For my heart is not hardened--no King shalt thou wed,
Rather him that thou lovest--sweet was it to see thee!
Yea dreams have undone me--I dreamed thou wouldst kiss me
Wilt thou let it come true then this once, and all over,
As I swear me thy servant to seek thy well doing?
O kind eyes! O sweet lips, that yet may not love me!
(She kisses him)

Bertha

O love love! this once and no more? O my darling
Must I die must thou die that it shall not be always?

King

O well may I die! yea it surely had slain me
[f. 93] If the first and the last of such sweetness it had been.

Bertha

O love, not the first; our lips met together
When thou layest there like death in the new

King

This was the rest then I fell when I wakened
Such rest as I feel now: but it failed then and faded,
For as nigh as thou camst love, so nigh wert thou
That my head I durst lay on the heaven of thy bosom
That thy face I durst draw to my cheek hot with longing
That thy feet mid the flowers I durst fall on with kisses
That thine eyes I durst kiss into weeping for me,
That mine arms I durst wind round thy body sore shaken
With the sobbing of love and its measureless kindness.

Bertha

O if yet I might make amends for thy longing!
Thy prayers that I knew not, that were even as my prayers.
Thy pain that I longed for- that was even as my pain
That I deemed must be lonely, that I deemed should last ever
Lo love so amends! for the pain of my longing
Yet clings to my heart mid thy measureless kindness

King

Thy kisses thy kindness one fear lull asleep:
Ee'n this, that thou dreamest and someday wilt awaken
To know what thou art and see the world loveless
Lo, that day will I pray thee to cast back some pity
On the dreams of my pain, the old dream of desire:

Bertha

Little know I of love, and what folk may attain to:
Yet I fear not for mine, whatsoever befall us.
So only mayst thou measure my desire unto thee,
That sprang up in a moment, by the years of thy longing
Hush now, and hearken to the hot busy noontide
Where the wind and the birds and the bees are a seeking
[f. 94] More sweet things than they have, than they may have belike
For the life stirs in all things and the great sun is sinking,
Mid changing of shadows adown to the west.
Let them change let them rest on till dewtime and nightfall.
But if seeking is life, let us die for a little.
For what is there left in the world to be sought for.