Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/157

 Often, God help me! I remember when

I was a simple boy, fifteen years old,

The Jacquerie froze up the blood of men

With their fell deeds, not fit now to be told:

God help again! we enter'd Beauvais town,

Slaying them fast, whereto I help'd, mere boy

As I was then; we gentles cut them down,

These burners and defilers, with great joy.

Reason for that, too, in the great church there

These fiends had lit a fire, that soon went out,

The church at Beauvais being so great and fair—

My father, who was by me, gave a shout

Between a beast's howl and a woman's scream,

Then, panting, chuckled to me: "John, look! look!

Count the dames' skeletons!" From some bad dream

Like a man just awaked, my father shook;

And I, being faint with smelling the burnt bones,

And very hot with fighting down the street,

And sick of such a life, fell down, with groans

My head went weakly nodding to my feet.—

—An arrow had gone through her tender throat.

And her right wrist was broken; then I saw

The reason why she had on that war-coat,

Their story came out clear without a flaw;

For when he knew that they were being waylaid.

He threw it over her, yea, hood and all;

Whereby he was much hack'd, while they were stay'd

By those their murderers; many an one did fall