THAT WAS MY COUNTER-BLADE UNDER LEONARDO TERRONE, MASTER OF FENCE Gone while your tastes were keen to you, Gone where the grey winds call to you, By that high fencer, even Death, Struck of the blade that no man parrieth; Such is your fence, one saith, One that hath known you. Drew you your sword most gallantly, Made you your pass most valiantly ’Gainst that grey fencer, even Death. Gone as a gust of breath Faith! no man tarrieth, “_Se il cor ti manca_,” but it failed thee not! “_Non ti fidar_,” it is the sword that speaks “_In me._”[6] Thou trusted’st in thyself and met the blade ’Thout mask or gauntlet, and art laid As memorable broken blades that be Kept as bold trophies of old pageantry. As old Toledos past their days of war Are kept mnemonic of the strokes they bore, So art thou with us, being good to keep In our heart’s sword-rack, though thy sword-arm sleep. ENVOI Struck of the blade that no man parrieth, Pierced of the point that toucheth lastly all, ’Gainst that grey fencer, even Death, Behold the shield! He shall not take thee all. [6] Sword-rune, “If thy heart fail thee trust not in me.” BALLAD FOR GLOOM For God, our God, is a gallant foe That playeth behind the veil. I have loved my God as a child at heart That seeketh deep bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as maid to man, But lo, this thing is best: To love your God as a gallant foe that plays behind the veil, To meet your God as the night winds meet beyond Arcturus’ pale. I have played with God for a woman, I have staked with my God for truth, I have lost to my God as a man, clear eyed; His dice be not of ruth. For I am made as a naked blade, But hear ye this thing in sooth: Who loseth to God as man to man Shall win at the turn of the game. I have drawn my blade where the lightnings meet But the ending is the same: Who loseth to God as the sword blades lose Shall win at the end of the game. For God, our God, is a gallant foe that playeth behind the veil, Whom God deigns not to overthrow hath need of triple mail. AT THE HEART O’ ME A. D. 751 With ever one fear at the heart o’ me Long by still sea-coasts coursed my Grey-Falcon, And the twin delights of shore and sea were mine, Sapphire and emerald with fine pearls between. Through the pale courses of the land-caressing in-streams Glided my barge and the kindly strange peoples Gave to me laugh for laugh, and wine for my tales of wandering. And the cities gave me welcome and the fields free passage, With ever one fear at the heart o’ me.