"Farewell, Romance!" the Traders cried; "Heave up the wharf where we would be; "Good-bye, Romance!" the Skipper said; ""Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye!" "Romance!" the season-tickets mourn, "He never ran to catch his train, "But passed with coach and guard and horn "And left the local late again!" Confound Romance! . . . And all unseen Romance brought up the nine-fifteen. His hand was on the lever laid, His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks, Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell, Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled, With unconsidered miracle, Hedged in a backward-gazing world: Then taught his chosen bard to say: "Our King was with us yesterday!" THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 1893 THE King has called for priest and cup, And all for the sake o' the songs he made. They have sought him high, they have sought him low, 'T was 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. "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, 66 And bitter oath it was on me, "I ha' watched my arms the lee-long night, "Where five-score fighting men would flee. "My lance is tipped o' the hammered flame, "My shield is beat o' the moonlight cold; "And I won my spurs in the Middle World, "A thousand fathom beneath the mould. "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, 66 And I send far as my will may flee, "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, 66 '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, "For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth, "And some they give me the good red gold, "And the song I sing for the counted gold The King cast down a silver groat, "Whenas I harp to the children small, "And who are you," True Thomas said, "That you should ride while they must stand? "Light down, light down from your horse o' pride, "I trow ye talk too loud and hie, "And I will make you a triple word, "And syne, if ye dare, ye shall 'noble me." He has lighted down from his horse o' pride, your breast-bone!" True Thomas played upon his harp, The fairy harp that couldna lee, And the first least word the proud King heard, It harpit the salt tear out o' his e'e. "Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne, "The sun is lost at noon at noon! 'T was bent beneath and blue above 'T was open field and running floodWhere, hot on heath and dyke and wall, The high sun warmed the adder's brood. "Lie down, lie down," True Thomas said. "The God shall judge when all is done "But I will bring you a better word "And lift the cloud that I laid on." True Thomas played upon his harp, That birled and brattled to his hand, "Oh, I hear the tread o' the fighting-men, "That flies so low and sings so clear! “Advance my standards to that war, "And bid my good knights prick and ride; "The gled shall watch as fierce a fight "As e'er was fought on the Border side!" |