When I came piping through the land, One morning in the spring, With cockle-burrs upon my coat, ’Twas then I was a king: A mullein sceptre in my hand, My order daisies three, With song’s first freshness on my lips-- And then ye pitied me! SONG Troubadour, when you were gay, You wooed with rose and roundelay, Singing harp-strings, sweet as May. From beneath the crown of bay Fell the wild, abundant hair. Scent of cherry bloom and pear With you from the south did fare, Buds of myrtle for your wear. Soft as summer stars thine eyes, Planets pale in violet skies; Summer wind that sings and dies Was the music of thy sighs. Troubadour, one winter’s night, When the pasture-lands were white And the cruel stars were bright, Fortune held thee in despite. Then beneath my tower you bore Rose nor rondel as of yore, But a heavy grief and sore Laid in silence at my door. April yearneth, April goes; Not for me her violet blows, I have done for long with those. At my breast thy sorrow grows, Nearer to my heart, God knows, Than ever roundelay or rose! L’ENVOI Where are the loves that we have loved before When once we are alone, and shut the door? No matter whose the arms that held me fast, The arms of Darkness hold me at the last. No matter down what primrose path I tend, I kiss the lips of Silence in the end. No matter on what heart I found delight, I come again unto the breast of Night. No matter when or how love did befall, ’Tis Loneliness that loves me best of all, And in the end she claims me, and I know That she will stay, though all the rest may go. No matter whose the eyes that I would keep Near in the dark, ’tis in the eyes of Sleep That I must look and look forever more, When once I am alone, and shut the door. PART II THE PALATINE (IN THE “DARK AGES”) “Have you been with the King to Rome, Brother, big brother?” “I’ve been there and I’ve come home. Back to your play, little brother.” “Oh, how high is Caesar’s house, Brother, big brother?” “Goats about the doorways browse: Night hawks nest in the burnt roof-tree, Home of the wild bird and home of the bee. A thousand chambers of marble lie Wide to the sun and the wind and the sky. Poppies we find amongst our wheat Grow on Caesar’s banquet seat. Cattle crop and neatherds drowse On the floors of Caesar’s house.”