Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/944

 768. Laus Deo

In the hall the coffin waits, and the idle armourer stands. At his belt the coffin nails, and the hammer in his hands. The bed of state is hung with crape—the grand old bed where she was wed— And like an upright corpse she sitteth gazing dumbly at the bed. Hour by hour her serving-men enter by the curtain'd door, And with steps of muffled woe pass breathless o'er the silent floor, And marshal mutely round, and look from each to each with eyelids red; 'Touch him not,' she shriek'd and cried, 'he is but newly dead!' 'O my own dear mistress,' the ancient Nurse did say, 'Seven long days and seven long nights you have watch'd him where he lay.' 'Seven long days and seven long nights,'the hoary Steward said; 'Seven long days and seven long nights,' groan'd the Warrener gray; 'Seven,' said the old Henchman, and bow'd his aged head; 'On your lives!' she shriek'd and cried,'he is but newly dead!' Then a father Priest they sought, The Priest that taught her all she knew, And they told him of her loss. 'For she is mild and sweet of will, She loved him, and his words are peace, And he shall heal her ill.' But her watch she did not cease. He bless'd her where she sat distraught, And show'd her holy cross,— The cross she kiss'd from year to year—