Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/245

Saint John of Nepomuc He saw the startled courtiers, straining their ears; He saw the white queen swaying, striving to stand He saw the soldiers tensely gripping their spears, Waiting the kings command: He heard small page drawing a sobbing breath; He heard a bird's call, poignant and sweet and low; He heard the rash of the river, spelling death, Mocking him, down below.
 * But he only said, "My liege,
 * To my honor you lay siege,
 * And that fortress you can never overthrow."

He thought of how he had led them, all the years; He thought of how he had served them, death and birth; He thought of healing their hates, stilling their fears Humbly, he weighed his worth. He knew he was leaving them, far from the goal; He knew, with a deep joy, it was safe and wise. He knew that now the pale queen's pitiful soul Would awake, and arise.
 * And he only said, "My king,
 * Every argument you bring
 * Merely sets my duty forth in sterner guise."

He felt the spears' points, merciless, thrust him down; He felt the exquisite, fierce glory of pain; He felt the bright waves eager, reaching to drown, Engulf him, body and brain.