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, '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. "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, 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, And I send far as my will may flee, 'They come wi' news of the groanin' earth, Wi' word of Spirit and Ghost and Flesh, 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, "For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth, To sing wi' the priests at the market-cross, "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 That simple people given me." The King cast down a silver groat, "If I come wi' a poor man's dole," he said, "Whenas I harp to the children small, They press me close on either hand. 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, "Now guard you well," True Thomas said, True Thomas played upon his harp, The fairy harp that couldna lee, And the first least word the proud King heard, "Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne, "The sun is lost at noon-at noon! The dread o' doom has grippit me. True Thomas, hide me under your cloak, God wot, I'm little fit to dee!" 'Twas bent beneath and blue above 'Twas open field and running floodWhere, hot on heath and dike 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, "Oh, I hear the tread o' the fighting men, 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!" 'Twas bent beneath and blue above, 'Twas nodding grass and naked sky, |