Page:ONCE A WEEK JUL TO DEC 1860.pdf/508

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painted cross and chalice

In the flood of light,

Lies in marble, with Dame Alice,

Andrew Welldon, Knight;

Side by side, the legend sayeth,

These two lived and died,

And carved stone o’er mingled bone

Showeth them side by side.

Nothing here, above or under,

Of fanatic gloom;

No fool’s fear of death’s deep wonder

Spoils their simple tomb:

Seems it that the sculptor graved it

Only for to show

What the Knight and what his Dame were

Now they are not so.

Merry cheeps of madcap swallows

Reach them, darting by,

Changeful shadows from the sallows

On their white brows lie;

Changeful shadows from the sallows,

Constant from the limes;

For light friends go, if winds do blow,

As in their ancient times.

Certes, lovely was the Lady!

Eyes, I guess, whose blue,

Calm, and cold, but gleaming steady,

Tender was and true:

Of a noble presence surely,

Dutiful and staid,

Worthinesse was glad before her,

Worthlessnesse afraid.

Read beneath, in golden letters,

Proudly written down,

Names of all her “sonnes and daughteres,”

Each a matron crown:

Deftly cut in ruff and wimple

Kneeling figures show

Small heads over smaller rising,

In a solemn row.

These her triumphs. Sterner token

Chronicles her Lord:

Hangs above him, grim and broken,

Gilded helm and sword.

Sometimes, when with quire and organ

All the still air swings,

Red with the rust and grey with the dust,

Low rattles that blade, and rings.

Time was, Knight, that tiny treble

Should have stirred thy soul

More than drums and trumpets rebel

Braying health to Noll.

No more fight now!—nay, nor flight now!

The rest that thou hast given

In chancel shade to that good blade

God gives thy soul in heaven.

Somewhere on this summer morning,

In this English isle,

Blooms a cheek whose rich adorning

Herits, Dame, thy smile:

Some one in the realm whose fathers

Suffered much, and long,

Owes that sword and its good lord

Thanks for a righted wrong.

Therefore, for that maiden say I:

“Dame, God thee assoil;”

Therefore for that freeman pray I:

“Knight, God quit thy toil;”

And for all Christian men and me

Grace from the gracious Lord

To write our name with no more shame,

And sheathe as clean a sword.