Flung for gift on Taupo's face Sign that spring is come— Buy my clinging myrtle And I'll give you back your home! Broom behind the windy town; pollen o' the pine Bell-bird in the leafy deep where the ratas twine Fern above the saddle-bow, flax upon the plainTake the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your love again! Buy my English posies! Ye that have your own Buy them for a brother's sake Overseas, alone. Weed ye trample underfoot Floods his heart abrim— Bird ye never heeded, Oh, she calls his dead to him! Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas. Woe for us if we forget, we that hold by these! Unto each his mother-beach, bloom and bird and land Masters of the Seven Seas, oh, love and under stand! THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS. THE King has called for priest and cup, The King has taken spur and blade To dub True Thomas a belted knight, And all for the sake o' the songs he made. They have sought him high, they have sought him low, They have sought him over down and lea; They have found him by the milk-white thorn That guards the gates o' Faerie. 'Twas bent beneath and blue above, Their eyes were held that they might not see "Now cease your song," the King he said, "Oh, cease your song and get you dight To vow your vow and watch your arms, For I will dub you a belted knight. 66 For I will give you a horse o' pride, Wi' blazon and spur and page and squire; Wi' keep and tail and seizin and law, And land to hold at your desire." True Thomas smiled above his harp, "I ha' vowed my vow in another place, I ha' watched my arms the lee-long night, "My lance is tipped o' the hammered flame, "And what should I make wi' a horse o' pride, And what should I make wi' a sword so brown, But spill the rings o' the Gentle Folk And flyte my kin in the Fairy Town? "And what should I make wi' blazon and belt, "For I send east and I send west, "They come wi' news of the groanin' earth, The King he bit his nether lip, And smote his hand upon his knee: "By the faith o' my soul, True Thomas," he said, "Ye waste no wit in courtesie! "As I desire, unto my pride, Can I make Earls by three and three, To run before and ride behind And serve the sons o' my body." "And what care I for your row-foot earls, Or all the sons o' your body? Before they win to the Pride o' Name, I trow they all ask leave o' me. "For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth, As I make Shame wi' mincin' feet, To sing wi' the priests at the market-cross, Or run wi' the dogs in the naked street. "And some they give me the good red gold, "And the song I sing for the counted gold The same I sing for the white money, But best I sing for the clout o' meal The King cast down a silver groat, "If I come with a poor man's dole," he said, "True Thomas, will ye harp to me?" |