The Poems of Madison Cawein, Volume 1 (of 5): Lyrics and old world idyllsCawein, Madison Julius
General
The Poems of Madison Cawein, Volume 1 (of 5): Lyrics and old world idylls
Cawein, Madison Julius
American poetry
The wind upon the forest and the rain
Upon the turrets. Had he heard a sigh
Or was it but the echo of his own,
Born of great weariness, that broke his rest?--
A dream! a dream!--The autumn storm is on,
And sows the wood with witchcraft, and the leaves
Are chased by imps of darkness through the hail
And hurling rain. The wind is wild with leaves.
Again he slept.
The rain among the trees,
The wind upon the turrets. Had he moaned,
Now that he lay awake and heard the wind
Hoot on the towers like a green-eyed owl?
The rain and wind. The night is black with rain.
Within the forest like a voice the wind;
And on the turrets, like swift feet, the rain.
Now was he sure 'twas weeping; and arose,
And found her at his door; and took her hand,
That like a soft persuasion lay in his.
He felt long sobbings shake it. And he said,
"Tell me, my sister, wherefore dost thou weep?"
And Angharad, "Yea; I will tell it thee.--
My name is Angharad. My father held
An Earldom under Arthur, yea, the first
In all his Kingdom: and this Castle, too,
Was his with cantrevs to the west and east.
When I was but a girl Earl Addanc met
And loved me. Once, when hunting, he came here
And sought my father and demanded me.
He said he loved me, and would have but me
To grace his bed and board, this Earl! But I--
I did not love him, being but a child,
My father's only child; I could not love.
And so my father said this should not be.
The Earl was wroth. I heard his furious stride
Beneath my casement; double demons pinched
His evil eyes and twenty gnarled his face.
He cursed us ere he rode beyond our walls
Then to Caerleon was I sent; and there
Became a woman of young Gwenhwyvar,
Until my father's death two years agone,
When I returned, a Countess, to find war
And Addanc here around beleaguered walls.
So hath he stripped me of my appanage;
Save this one keep, whose strength hath held out long,
Manned by my foster brothers, brave and young,
Strong to endure, but lacking still in arms;
No match for knights like Addanc. Thou hast met
The eighteen youths whose valor will not yield.
But what avail their valor and their will
Against hard hunger, now our larder lacks,
And lacks the Convent, too, whereon we leaned?
And Addanc comes to-morrow morn; the truce
For our one day's deliberation done.
If he prevail--the thought is like hot hands
Here on my brain!--his oath is 'that the night
Shall see me given over to his grooms.'"
She wept with tremblings. Then said Peredur:
"Go, dry thy tears, my sister. And this Earl--
If he be early, call me not too late.
Fear not. I will not go until my sword
Hath crossed the sword of so much wickedness,
And proved this base ambition. Go and sleep."
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account