The Jacquerie. A Fragment Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDEFGDHIJKLDDMNND ODDPQRDDSDTDUVWDDXDY ZA2B2C2LDDD2E2DF2DDG 2SDH2DDDDDI2DDDDDJ2K 2L2M2ZN2DK2O2J2DDK2P 2C2DDQ2G2DTJG2R2Q2Q2 FJ2ZS2P DDQ2T2DU2RV2DDW2G2DD X2Y2Z2A3DDB3DZC3Q2D Z2Z2DDDDDFFD3E3SZ2F3 G3G2FQ2U2J2DDDQ2FX2Z 2U2H3DAI3 A H3H3DDDH3H3DH3H3DJ3F DH3DH3K3JDH3L3H3DAZ2 A3H3M3H3DZ2H3Z2H3N3H 3H3DO3VZ2DDZ2Z2VZ2DP 3Q2Z2DO3H3H3FDQ2DQ2D DDZ2A3DDDDM3Z2VDL2Q3 H3DDDZ2H3DDDFFDH3DDD R3Q2S3T3S3H3S3DS3Z2S 3DU3DM3DV3DFDW3Z2X3H 3DDH3SZ2H3Z2DSY3H3H3 H3H3Z3H3DDH3K3H3A4 Z2DFDK3H3FZ2DZ2H3DH3 DZ2B4I3C4X3DH3DM3Z2H 3H3D4F3H3H3H3L2H3FDH 3DDDH3H3ZH3DDDF3I3F3 DA4DK2DA4A3A4H3H3E4Z H3Q2H3DH3 DQ2Z2VDDDDDH3DSH3E4Q 2H3H3DF4FDE4G4Q2Z2B4 H3DH3DDDZ2Z2H3FDH3H3 H4S A H3H3H3Q2H3DZ2DDDH3Z2 Q2N3H3FH3JH3DFH3H3VV I4DQ2DDI3ZDH3Z Q2H3H3Z2FDH3H3JH3J4K 4DA3N3H3DDDH3H3FDDDH 3H3A4DQ2H3DDH3FH3DZ2 DL4FDL4DQ2Z2DK2Q2A3 Q2Z2I3DM3H3D H3DO3H3A3B4H3B4D K2 DK2H3H3DH3DDDDDDH3H3 H3H3H3X3Q2DH3H3H3DB4 DDDK2DH3DM4H3SDDDDH3 DH3DDH3H3DK2N4A3H3DD Q2O4DDDDDQ2H3P4DDQ4O 4H3H3Z2A3DDO3DH3DH3A 3DQ2O3DDDVH3DL2DDDH3 D DH3R4H3H3DH3H3Q2H3Q2 DDH3C4Q2H3DDDQ2H3H3D H3H3Q2DX3H3H3DDH3DDF DDH3K2A3FDDI3S4K2DH3 H3H3DFB4DDH3K2FDH3FD H3DB4H3DH3H3H3O4DUT4 DH3Q2H3H3DDH3L2DH3Q2 U4H3D V4Chapter I | A |
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Once on a time a Dawn all red and bright | B |
Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night | B |
And flamed one brilliant instant on the world | C |
Then back into the historic moat was hurled | C |
And Night was King again for many years | D |
Once on a time the Rose of Spring blushed out | E |
But Winter angrily withdrew it back | F |
Into his rough new bursten husk and shut | G |
The stern husk leaves and hid it many years | D |
Once Famine tricked himself with ears of corn | H |
And Hate strung flowers on his spiked belt | I |
And glum Revenge in silver lilies pranked him | J |
And Lust put violets on his shameless front | K |
And all minced forth o' the street like holiday folk | L |
That sally off afield on Summer morns | D |
Once certain hounds that knew of many a chase | D |
And bare great wounds of antler and of tusk | M |
That they had ta'en to give a lord some sport | N |
Good hounds that would have died to give lords sport | N |
Were so bewrayed and kicked by these same lords | D |
That all the pack turned tooth o' the knights and bit | O |
As knights had been no better things than boars | D |
And took revenge as bloody as a man's | D |
Unhoundlike sudden hot i' the chops and sweet | P |
Once sat a falcon on a lady's wrist | Q |
Seeming to doze with wrinkled eye lid drawn | R |
But dreaming hard of hoods and slaveries | D |
And of dim hungers in his heart and wings | D |
Then while the mistress gazed above for game | S |
Sudden he flew into her painted face | D |
And hooked his horn claws in her lily throat | T |
And drove his beak into her lips and eyes | D |
In fierce and hawkish kissing that did scar | U |
And mar the lady's beauty evermore | V |
And once while Chivalry stood tall and lithe | W |
And flashed his sword above the stricken eyes | D |
Of all the simple peasant folk of France | D |
While Thought was keen and hot and quick | X |
And did not play as in these later days | D |
Like summer lightning flickering in the west | Y |
As little dreadful as if glow worms lay | Z |
In the cool and watery clouds and glimmered weak | A2 |
But gleamed and struck at once or oak or man | B2 |
And left not space for Time to wave his wing | C2 |
Betwixt the instantaneous flash and stroke | L |
While yet the needs of life were brave and fierce | D |
And did not hide their deeds behind their words | D |
And logic came not 'twixt desire and act | D2 |
And Want and Take was the whole Form of life | E2 |
While Love had fires a burning in his veins | D |
And hidden Hate could flash into revenge | F2 |
Ere yet young Trade was 'ware of his big thews | D |
Or dreamed that in the bolder afterdays | D |
He would hew down and bind old Chivalry | G2 |
And drag him to the highest height of fame | S |
And plunge him thence in the sea of still Romance | D |
To lie for aye in never rusted mail | H2 |
Gleaming through quiet ripples of soft songs | D |
And sheens of old traditionary tales | D |
On such a time a certain May arose | D |
From out that blue Sea that between five lands | D |
Lies like a violet midst of five large leaves | D |
Arose from out this violet and flew on | I2 |
And stirred the spirits of the woods of France | D |
And smoothed the brows of moody Auvergne hills | D |
And wrought warm sea tints into maidens' eyes | D |
And calmed the wordy air of market towns | D |
With faint suggestions blown from distant buds | D |
Until the land seemed a mere dream of land | J2 |
And in this dream field Life sat like a dove | K2 |
And cooed across unto her dove mate Death | L2 |
Brooding pathetic by a river lone | M2 |
Oh sharper tangs pierced through this perfumed May | Z |
Strange aches sailed by with odors on the wind | N2 |
As when we kneel in flowers that grow on graves | D |
Of friends who died unworthy of our love | K2 |
King John of France was proving such an ache | O2 |
In English prisons wide and fair and grand | J2 |
Whose long expanses of green park and chace | D |
Did ape large liberty with such success | D |
As smiles of irony ape smiles of love | K2 |
Down from the oaks of Hertford Castle park | P2 |
Double with warm rose breaths of southern Spring | C2 |
Came rumors as if odors too had thorns | D |
Sharp rumors how the three Estates of France | D |
Like old Three headed Cerberus of Hell | Q2 |
Had set upon the Duke of Normandy | G2 |
Their rightful Regent snarled in his great face | D |
Snapped jagged teeth in inch breadth of his throat | T |
And blown such hot and savage breath upon him | J |
That he had tossed great sops of royalty | G2 |
Unto the clamorous three mawed baying beast | R2 |
And was not further on his way withal | Q2 |
And had but changed a snarl into a growl | Q2 |
How Arnold de Cervolles had ta'en the track | F |
That war had burned along the unhappy land | J2 |
Shouting since France is then too poor to pay | Z |
The soldiers that have bloody devoir done | S2 |
And since needs must pardie a man must eat | P |
Arm gentlemen swords slice as well as knives ' | - |
And so had tempted stout men from the ranks | D |
And now was adding robbers' waste to war's | D |
Stealing the leavings of remorseless battle | Q2 |
And making gaunter the gaunt bones of want | T2 |
How this Cervolles called Arch priest by the mass | D |
Through warm Provence had marched and menace made | U2 |
Against Pope Innocent at Avignon | R |
And how the Pope nor ate nor drank nor slept | V2 |
Through godly fear concerning his red wines | D |
For if these knaves should sack his holy house | D |
And all the blessed casks be knocked o' the head | W2 |
HORRENDUM all his Holiness' drink to be | G2 |
Profanely guzzled down the reeking throats | D |
Of scoundrels and inflame them on to seize | D |
The massy coffers of the Church's gold | X2 |
And steal mayhap the carven silver shrine | Y2 |
And all the golden crucifixes No | Z2 |
And so the holy father Pope made stir | A3 |
And had sent forth a legate to Cervolles | D |
And treated with him and made compromise | D |
And last had bidden all the Arch priest's troop | B3 |
To come and banquet with him in his house | D |
Where they did wassail high by night and day | Z |
And Father Pope sat at the board and carved | C3 |
Midst jokes that flowed full greasily | Q2 |
And priest and soldier trolled good songs for mass | D |
And all the prayers the Priests made were pray drink ' | - |
And all the oaths the Soldiers swore were drink ' | - |
Till Mirth sat like a jaunty postillon | Z2 |
Upon the back of Time and urged him on | Z2 |
With piquant spur past chapel and past cross | D |
How Charles King of Navarre in long duress | D |
By mandate of King John within the walls | D |
Of Crevacoeur and then of strong Alleres | D |
In faithful ward of Sir Tristan du Bois | D |
Was now escaped had supped with Guy Kyrec | F |
Had now a pardon of the Regent Duke | F |
By half compulsion of a Paris mob | D3 |
Had turned the people's love upon himself | E3 |
By smooth harangues and now was bold to claim | S |
That France was not the Kingdom of King John | Z2 |
But By our Lady his by right and worth | F3 |
And so was plotting treason in the State | G3 |
And laughing at weak Charles of Normandy | G2 |
Nay these had been like good news to the King | F |
Were any man but bold enough to tell | Q2 |
The King what bitter sayings men had made | U2 |
And hawked augmenting up and down the land | J2 |
Against the barons and great lords of France | D |
That fled from English arrows at Poictiers | D |
POICTIERS POICTIERS this grain i' the eye of France | D |
Had swelled it to a big and bloodshot ball | Q2 |
That looked with rage upon a world askew | F |
Poictiers' disgrace was now but two years old | X2 |
Yet so outrageous rank and full was grown | Z2 |
That France was wholly overspread with shade | U2 |
And bitter fruits lay on the untilled ground | H3 |
That stank and bred so foul contagious smells | D |
That not a nose in France but stood awry | A |
Nor boor that cried not FAUGH upon the air | I3 |
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- | |
Chapter II | A |
- | |
Franciscan friar John de Rochetaillade | H3 |
With gentle gesture lifted up his hand | H3 |
And poised it high above the steady eyes | D |
Of a great crowd that thronged the market place | D |
In fair Clermont to hear him prophesy | D |
Midst of the crowd old Gris Grillon the maimed | H3 |
A wretched wreck that fate had floated out | H3 |
From the drear storm of battle at Poictiers | D |
A living man whose larger moiety | H3 |
Was dead and buried on the battle field | H3 |
A grisly trunk without or arms or legs | D |
And scarred with hoof cuts over cheek and brow | J3 |
Lay in his wicker cradle smiling | F |
Jacques | D |
Quoth he My son I would behold this priest | H3 |
That is not fat and loves not wine and fasts | D |
And stills the folk with waving of his hand | H3 |
And threats the knights and thunders at the Pope | K3 |
Make way for Gris ye who are whole of limb | J |
Set me on yonder ledge that I may see | D |
Forthwith a dozen horny hands reached out | H3 |
And lifted Gris Grillon upon the ledge | L3 |
Whereon he lay and overlooked the crowd | H3 |
And from the gray grown hedges of his brows | D |
Shot forth a glance against the friar's eye | A |
That struck him like an arrow | Z2 |
Then the friar | A3 |
With voice as low as if a maiden hummed | H3 |
Love songs of Provence in a mild day dream | M3 |
And when he broke the second seal I heard | H3 |
The second beast say Come and see | D |
And then | Z2 |
Went out another horse and he was red | H3 |
And unto him that sat thereon was given | Z2 |
To take the peace of earth away and set | H3 |
Men killing one another and they gave | N3 |
To him a mighty sword | H3 |
The friar paused | H3 |
And pointed round the circle of sad eyes | D |
There is no face of man or woman here | O3 |
But showeth print of the hard hoof of war | V |
Ah yonder leaneth limbless Gris Grillon | Z2 |
Friends Gris Grillon is France | D |
Good France my France | D |
Wilt never walk on glory's hills again | Z2 |
Wilt never work among thy vines again | Z2 |
Art footless and art handless evermore | V |
Thou felon War I do arraign thee now | Z2 |
Of mayhem of the four main limbs of France | D |
Thou old red criminal stand forth I charge | P3 |
But O I am too utter sorrowful | Q2 |
To urge large accusation now | Z2 |
Nathless | D |
My work to day is still more grievous Hear | O3 |
The stains that war hath wrought upon the land | H3 |
Show but as faint white flecks if seen o' the side | H3 |
Of those blood covered images that stalk | F |
Through yon cold chambers of the future as | D |
The prophet mood now stealing on my soul | Q2 |
Reveals them marching marching marching See | D |
There go the kings of France in piteous file | Q2 |
The deadly diamonds shining in their crowns | D |
Do wound the foreheads of their Majesties | D |
And glitter through a setting of blood gouts | D |
As if they smiled to think how men are slain | Z2 |
By the sharp facets of the gem of power | A3 |
And how the kings of men are slaves of stones | D |
But look The long procession of the kings | D |
Wavers and stops the world is full of noise | D |
The ragged peoples storm the palaces | D |
They rave they laugh they thirst they lap the stream | M3 |
That trickles from the regal vestments down | Z2 |
And lapping smack their heated chaps for more | V |
And ply their daggers for it till the kings | D |
All die and lie in a crooked sprawl of death | L2 |
Ungainly foul and stiff as any heap | Q3 |
Of villeins rotting on a battle field | H3 |
'Tis true that when these things have come to pass | D |
Then never a king shall rule again in France | D |
For every villein shall be king in France | D |
And who hath lordship in him whether born | Z2 |
In hedge or silken bed shall be a lord | H3 |
And queens shall be as thick i' the land as wives | D |
And all the maids shall maids of honor be | D |
And high and low shall commune solemnly | D |
And stars and stones shall have free interview | F |
But woe is me 'tis also piteous true | F |
That ere this gracious time shall visit France | D |
Your graves Beloved shall be some centuries old | H3 |
And so your children's and their children's graves | D |
And many generations' | D |
Ye O ye | D |
Shall grieve and ye shall grieve and ye shall grieve | R3 |
Your Life shall bend and o'er his shuttle toil | Q2 |
A weaver weaving at the loom of grief | S3 |
Your Life shall sweat 'twixt anvil and hot forge | T3 |
An armorer working at the sword of grief | S3 |
Your Life shall moil i' the ground and plant his seed | H3 |
A farmer foisoning a huge crop of grief | S3 |
Your Life shall chaffer in the market place | D |
A merchant trading in the goods of grief | S3 |
Your Life shall go to battle with his bow | Z2 |
A soldier fighting in defence of grief | S3 |
By every rudder that divides the seas | D |
Tall Grief shall stand the helmsman of the ship | U3 |
By every wain that jolts along the roads | D |
Stout Grief shall walk the driver of the team | M3 |
Midst every herd of cattle on the hills | D |
Dull Grief shall lie the herdsman of the drove | V3 |
Oh Grief shall grind your bread and play your lutes | D |
And marry you and bury you | F |
How else | D |
Who's here in France can win her people's faith | W3 |
And stand in front and lead the people on | Z2 |
Where is the Church | X3 |
The Church is far too fat | H3 |
Not mark by robust swelling of the thews | D |
But puffed and flabby large with gross increase | D |
Of wine fat plague fat dropsy fat | H3 |
O shame | S |
Thou Pope that cheatest God at Avignon | Z2 |
Thou that shouldst be the Father of the world | H3 |
And Regent of it whilst our God is gone | Z2 |
Thou that shouldst blaze with conferred majesty | D |
And smite old Lust o' the Flesh so as by flame | S |
Thou that canst turn thy key and lock Grief up | Y3 |
Or turn thy key and unlock Heaven's Gate | H3 |
Thou that shouldst be the veritable hand | H3 |
That Christ down stretcheth out of heaven yet | H3 |
To draw up him that fainteth to His heart | H3 |
Thou that shouldst bear thy fruit yet virgin live | Z3 |
As she that bore a man yet sinned not | H3 |
Thou that shouldst challenge the most special eyes | D |
Of Heaven and Earth and Hell to mark thee since | D |
Thou shouldst be Heaven's best captain Earth's best friend | H3 |
And Hell's best enemy false Pope false Pope | K3 |
The world thy child is sick and like to die | H3 |
But thou art dinner drowsy and cannot come | A4 |
And Life is sore beset and crieth help ' | - |
But thou brook'st not disturbance at thy wine | Z2 |
And France is wild for one to lead her souls | D |
But thou art huge and fat and laggest back | F |
Among the remnants of forsaken camps | D |
Thou'rt not God's Pope thou art the Devil's Pope | K3 |
Thou art first Squire to that most puissant knight | H3 |
Lord Satan who thy faithful squireship long | F |
Hath watched and well shall guerdon | Z2 |
Ye sad souls | D |
So faint with work ye love not so thin worn | Z2 |
With miseries ye wrought not so outraged | H3 |
By strokes of ill that pass th' ill doers' heads | D |
And cleave the innocent so desperate tired | H3 |
Of insult that doth day by day abuse | D |
The humblest dignity of humblest men | Z2 |
Ye cannot call toward the Church for help | B4 |
The Church already is o'erworked with care | I3 |
Of its dyspeptic stomach | C4 |
Ha the Church | X3 |
Forgets about eternity | D |
I had | H3 |
A vision of forgetfulness | D |
O Dream | M3 |
Born of a dream as yonder cloud is born | Z2 |
Of water which is born of cloud | H3 |
I thought | H3 |
I saw the moonlight lying large and calm | D4 |
Upon the unthrobbing bosom of the earth | F3 |
As a great diamond glittering on a shroud | H3 |
A sense of breathlessness stilled all the world | H3 |
Motion stood dreaming he was changed to Rest | H3 |
And Life asleep did fancy he was Death | L2 |
A quick small shadow spotted the white world | H3 |
Then instantly 'twas huge and huger grew | F |
By instants till it did o'ergloom all space | D |
I lifted up mine eyes O thou just God | H3 |
I saw a spectre with a million heads | D |
Come frantic downward through the universe | D |
And all the mouths of it were uttering cries | D |
Wherein was a sharp agony and yet | H3 |
The cries were much like laughs as if Pain laughed | H3 |
Its myriad lips were blue and sometimes they | Z |
Closed fast and only moaned dim sounds that shaped | H3 |
Themselves to one word Homeless' and the stars | D |
Did utter back the moan and the great hills | D |
Did bellow it and then the stars and hills | D |
Bandied the grief o' the ghost 'twixt heaven and earth | F3 |
The spectre sank and lay upon the air | I3 |
And brooded level close upon the earth | F3 |
With all the myriad heads just over me | D |
I glanced in all the eyes and marked that some | A4 |
Did glitter with a flame of lunacy | D |
And some were soft and false as feigning love | K2 |
And some were blinking with hypocrisy | D |
And some were overfilmed by sense and some | A4 |
Blazed with ambition's wild unsteady fire | A3 |
And some were burnt i' the sockets black and some | A4 |
Were dead as embers when the fire is out | H3 |
A curious zone circled the Spectre's waist | H3 |
Which seemed with strange device to symbol Time | E4 |
It was a silver gleaming thread of day | Z |
Spiral about a jet black band of night | H3 |
This zone seemed ever to contract and all | Q2 |
The frame with momentary spasms heaved | H3 |
In the strangling traction which did never cease | D |
I cried unto the spectre Time hath bound | H3 |
Thy body with the fibre of his hours ' | - |
Then rose a multitude of mocking sounds | D |
And some mouths spat at me and cried thou fool' | Q2 |
And some thou liest' and some he dreams' and then | Z2 |
Some hands uplifted certain bowls they bore | V |
To lips that writhed but drank with eagerness | D |
And some played curious viols shaped like hearts | D |
And stringed with loves to light and ribald tunes | D |
And other hands slit throats with knives | D |
And others patted all the painted cheeks | D |
In reach and others stole what others had | H3 |
Unseen or boldly snatched at alien rights | D |
And some o' the heads did vie in a foolish game | S |
OF WHICH COULD HOLD ITSELF THE HIGHEST and | H3 |
OF WHICH ONE'S NECK WAS STIFF THE LONGEST TIME | E4 |
And then the sea in silence wove a veil | Q2 |
Of mist and breathed it upward and about | H3 |
And waved and wound it softly round the world | H3 |
And meshed my dream i' the vague and endless folds | D |
And a light wind arose and blew these off | F4 |
And I awoke | F |
The many heads are priests | D |
That have forgot eternity and Time | E4 |
Hath caught and bound them with a withe | G4 |
Into a fagot huge to burn in hell | Q2 |
Now if the priesthood put such shame upon | Z2 |
Your cry for leadership can better help | B4 |
Come out of knighthood | H3 |
Lo you smile you boors | D |
You villeins smile at knighthood | H3 |
Now thou France | D |
That wert the mother of fair chivalry | D |
Unclose thine eyes unclose thine eyes here see | D |
Here stand a herd of knaves that laugh to scorn | Z2 |
Thy gentlemen | Z2 |
O contumely hard | H3 |
O bitterness of last disgrace O sting | F |
That stings the coward knights of lost Poictiers | D |
I would but now a murmur rose i' the crowd | H3 |
Of angry voices and the friar leapt | H3 |
From where he stood to preach and pressed a path | H4 |
Betwixt the mass that way the voices came | S |
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Chapter III | A |
- | |
Lord Raoul was riding castleward from field | H3 |
At left hand rode his lady and at right | H3 |
His fool whom he loved better and his bird | H3 |
His fine ger falcon best beloved of all | Q2 |
Sat hooded on his wrist and gently swayed | H3 |
To the undulating amble of the horse | D |
Guest knights and huntsmen and a noisy train | Z2 |
Of loyal stomached flatterers and their squires | D |
Clattered in retinue and aped his pace | D |
And timed their talk by his and worked their eyes | D |
By intimation of his glance with great | H3 |
And drilled precision | Z2 |
Then said the fool | Q2 |
'Twas a brave flight my lord that last one brave | N3 |
Didst note the heron once did turn about | H3 |
And show a certain anger with his wing | F |
And make as if he almost dared not quite | H3 |
To strike the falcon ere the falcon him | J |
A foolish damnable advised bird | H3 |
Yon heron What Shall herons grapple hawks | D |
God made the herons for the hawks to strike | F |
And hawk and heron made he for lords' sport | H3 |
What then my honey tongued Fool that knowest | H3 |
God's purposes what made he fools for | V |
For | V |
To counsel lords my lord Wilt hear me prove | I4 |
Fools' counsel better than wise men's advice | D |
Aye prove it If thy logic fail wise fool | Q2 |
I'll cause two wise men whip thee soundly | D |
So | D |
Wise men are prudent prudent men have care | I3 |
For their own proper interest therefore they | Z |
Advise their own advantage not another's | D |
But fools are careless careless men care not | H3 |
For their own proper interest therefore they | Z |
Advise their friend's advantage not their own ' | - |
Now hear the commentary Cousin Raoul | Q2 |
This fool unselfish counsels thee his lord | H3 |
Go not through yonder square where as thou see'st | H3 |
Yon herd of villeins crick necked all with strain | Z2 |
Of gazing upward stand and gaze and take | F |
With open mouth and eye and ear the quips | D |
And heresies of John de Rochetaillade | H3 |
Lord Raoul half turned him in his saddle round | H3 |
And looked upon his fool and vouchsafed him | J |
What moiety of fastidious wonderment | H3 |
A generous nobleness could deign to give | J4 |
To such humility with eye superb | K4 |
Where languor and surprise both showed themselves | D |
Each deprecating t'other | A3 |
Now dear knave | N3 |
Be kind and tell me tell me quickly too | H3 |
Some proper reasonable ground or cause | D |
Nay tell me but some shadow of some cause | D |
Nay hint me but a thin ghost's dream of cause | D |
So will I thee absolve from being whipped | H3 |
Why I Lord Raoul should turn my horse aside | H3 |
From riding by yon pitiful villein gang | F |
Or ay by God from riding o'er their heads | D |
If so my humor serve or through their bodies | D |
Or miring fetlocks in their nasty brains | D |
Or doing aught else I will in my Clermont | H3 |
Do me this grace mine Idiot | H3 |
Please thy Wisdom | A4 |
An thou dost ride through this same gang of boors | D |
'Tis my fool's prophecy some ill shall fall | Q2 |
Lord Raoul yon mass of various flesh is fused | H3 |
And melted quite in one by white hot words | D |
The friar speaks Sir sawest thou ne'er sometimes | D |
Thine armorer spit on iron when 'twas hot | H3 |
And how the iron flung the insult back | F |
Hissing So this contempt now in thine eye | H3 |
If it shall fall on yonder heated surface | D |
May bounce back upward Well and then What then | Z2 |
Why if thou cause thy folk to crop some villein's ears | D |
So evil falls and a fool foretells the truth | L4 |
Or if some erring crossbow bolt should break | F |
Thine unarmed head shot from behind a house | D |
So evil falls and a fool foretells the truth | L4 |
Well quoth Lord Raoul with languid utterance | D |
'Tis very well and thou'rt a foolish fool | Q2 |
Nay thou art Folly's perfect witless man | Z2 |
Stupidity doth madly dote on thee | D |
And Idiocy doth fight her for thy love | K2 |
Yet Silliness doth love thee best of all | Q2 |
And while they quarrel snatcheth thee to her | A3 |
And saith Ah 'tis my sweetest No brains mine ' | - |
And 'tis my mood to day some ill shall fall | Q2 |
And there right suddenly Lord Raoul gave rein | Z2 |
And galloped straightway to the crowded square | I3 |
What time a strange light flickered in the eyes | D |
Of the calm fool that was not folly's gleam | M3 |
But more like wisdom's smile at plan well laid | H3 |
And end well compassed In the noise of hoofs | D |
Secure the fool low muttered Folly's love ' | - |
So Silliness' sweetheart no brains ' quoth my Lord | H3 |
Why how intolerable an ass is he | D |
Whom Silliness' sweetheart drives so by the ear | O3 |
Thou languid lordly most heart breaking Nought | H3 |
Thou bastard zero that hast come to power | A3 |
Nothing's right issue failing Thou mere pooh' | B4 |
That Life hath uttered in some moment's pet | H3 |
And then forgot she uttered thee Thou gap | B4 |
In time thou little notch in circumstance | D |
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Chapter IV | K2 |
- | |
Lord Raoul drew rein with all his company | D |
And urged his horse i' the crowd to gain fair view | K2 |
Of him that spoke and stopped at last and sat | H3 |
Still underneath where Gris Grillon was laid | H3 |
And heard somewhile with languid scornful gaze | D |
The friar putting blame on priest and knight | H3 |
But presently as 'twere in weariness | D |
He gazed about and then above and so | D |
Made mark of Gris Grillon | D |
So there old man | D |
Thou hast more brows than legs | D |
I would quoth Gris | D |
That thou upon a certain time I wot | H3 |
Hadst had less legs and bigger brows my Lord | H3 |
Then all the flatterers and their squires cried out | H3 |
Solicitous with various voice Go to | H3 |
Old Rogue or Shall I brain him my good Lord | H3 |
Or So let me but chuck him from his perch | X3 |
Or Slice his tongue to piece his leg withal | Q2 |
Or Send his eyes to look for his missing arms | D |
But my Lord Raoul was in the mood to day | H3 |
Which craves suggestions simply with a view | H3 |
To flout them in the face and so waved hand | H3 |
Backward and stayed the on pressing sycophants | D |
Eager to buy rich praise with bravery cheap | B4 |
I would know why he said thou wishedst me | D |
Less legs and bigger brows and when | D |
Wouldst know | D |
Learn then cried Gris Grillon and stirred himself | K2 |
In a great spasm of passion mixed with pain | D |
An thou hadst had more courage and less speed | H3 |
Then ah my God then could not I have been | D |
That piteous gibe of a man thou see'st I am | M4 |
Sir having no disease nor any taint | H3 |
Nor old hereditament of sin or shame | S |
But feeling the brave bound and energy | D |
Of daring health that leaps along the veins | D |
As a hart upon his river banks at morn | D |
Sir wild with the urgings and hot strenuous beats | D |
Of manhood's heart in this full sinewed breast | H3 |
Which thou may'st even now discern is mine | D |
Sir full aware each instant in each day | H3 |
Of motions of great muscles once were mine | D |
And thrill of tense thew knots and stinging sense | D |
Of nerves nice capable and delicate | H3 |
Sir visited each hour by passions great | H3 |
That lack all instrument of utterance | D |
Passion of love that hath no arm to curve | K2 |
Passion of speed that hath no limb to stretch | N4 |
Yea even that poor feeling of desire | A3 |
Simply to turn me from this side to that | H3 |
Which brooded on into wild passion grows | D |
By reason of the impotence that broods | D |
Balked of its end and unachievable | Q2 |
Without assistance of some foreign arm | O4 |
Sir moved and thrilled like any perfect man | D |
O trebly moved and thrilled since poor desires | D |
That are of small import to happy men | D |
Who easily can compass them to me | D |
Become mere hopeless Heavens or actual Hells | D |
Sir strengthened so with manhood's seasoned soul | Q2 |
I lie in this damned cradle day and night | H3 |
Still still so still my Lord less than a babe | P4 |
In powers but more than any man in needs | D |
Dreaming with open eye of days when men | D |
Have fallen cloven through steel and bone and flesh | Q4 |
At single strokes of this of that big arm | O4 |
Once wielded aught a mortal arm might wield | H3 |
Waking a prey to any foolish gnat | H3 |
That wills to conquer my defenceless brow | Z2 |
And sit thereon in triumph hounded ever | A3 |
By small necessities of barest use | D |
Which since I cannot compass them alone | D |
Do snarl my helplessness into mine ear | O3 |
Howling behind me that I have no hands | D |
And yelping round me that I have no feet | H3 |
So that my heart is stretched by tiny ills | D |
That are so much the larger that I knew | H3 |
In bygone days how trifling small they were | A3 |
Dungeoned in wicker strong as 'twere in stone | D |
Fast chained with nothing firmer than with steel | Q2 |
Captive in limb yet free in eye and ear | O3 |
Sole tenant of this puny Hell in Heaven | D |
And this all this because I was a man | D |
For in the battle ha thou know'st pale face | D |
When that the four great English horsemen bore | V |
So bloodily on thee I leapt to front | H3 |
To front of thee of thee and fought four blades | D |
Thinking to win thee time to snatch thy breath | L2 |
And by a rearing fore hoof stricken down | D |
Mine eyes through blood my brain through pain | D |
Midst of a dim hot uproar fainting down | D |
Were 'ware of thee far rearward fleeing Hound | H3 |
- | |
- | |
Chapter V | D |
- | |
Then as the passion of old Gris Grillon | D |
A wave swift swelling grew to highest height | H3 |
And snapped a foaming consummation forth | R4 |
With salty hissing came the friar through | H3 |
The mass A stillness of white faces wrought | H3 |
A transient death on all the hands and breasts | D |
Of all the crowd and men and women stood | H3 |
One instant fixed as they had died upright | H3 |
Then suddenly Lord Raoul rose up in selle | Q2 |
And thrust his dagger straight upon the breast | H3 |
Of Gris Grillon to pin him to the wall | Q2 |
But ere steel point met flesh tall Jacques Grillon | D |
Had leapt straight upward from the earth and in | D |
The self same act had whirled his bow by end | H3 |
With mighty whirr about his head and struck | C4 |
The dagger with so featly stroke and full | Q2 |
That blade flew up and hilt flew down and left | H3 |
Lord Raoul unfriended of his weapon | D |
Then | D |
The fool cried shrilly Shall a knight of France | D |
Go stabbing his own cattle And Lord Raoul | Q2 |
Calm with a changing mood sat still and called | H3 |
Here huntsmen 'tis my will ye seize the hind | H3 |
That broke my dagger bind him to this tree | D |
And slice both ears to hair breadth of his head | H3 |
To be his bloody token of regret | H3 |
That he hath put them to so foul employ | Q2 |
As catching villainous breath of strolling priests | D |
That mouth at knighthood and defile the Church | X3 |
The knife Rest of line lost | H3 |
To place the edge Rest of line lost | H3 |
Mary the blood it oozes sluggishly | D |
Scorning to come at call of blade so base | D |
Sathanas He that cuts the ear has left | H3 |
The blade sticking at midway for to turn | D |
And ask the Duke if 'tis not done | D |
Thus far with nice precision and the Duke | F |
Leans down to see and cries 'tis marvellous nice | D |
Shaved as thou wert ear barber by profession | D |
Whereat one witling cries 'tis monstrous fit | H3 |
In sooth a shaven pated priest should have | K2 |
A shaven eared audience and another | A3 |
Give thanks thou Jacques to this most gracious Duke | F |
That rids thee of the life long dread of loss | D |
Of thy two ears by cropping them at once | D |
And now henceforth full safely thou may'st dare | I3 |
The powerfullest Lord in France to touch | S4 |
An ear of thine and now the knave o' the knife | K2 |
Seizes the handle to commence again and saws | D |
And ha Lift up thine head O Henry Friend | H3 |
'Tis Marie walking midway of the street | H3 |
As she had just stepped forth from out the gate | H3 |
Of the very very Heaven where God is | D |
Still glittering with the God shine on her Look | F |
And there right suddenly the fool looked up | B4 |
And saw the crowd divided in two ranks | D |
Raoul pale stricken as a man that waits | D |
God's first remark when he hath died into | H3 |
God's sudden presence saw the cropping knave | K2 |
A pause with knife in hand the wondering folk | F |
All straining forward with round ringed eyes | D |
And Gris Grillon calm smiling while he prayed | H3 |
The Holy Virgin's blessing | F |
Down the lane | D |
Betwixt the hedging bodies of the crowd | H3 |
Part of line lost majesty | D |
Part of line lost a spirit pacing on the top | B4 |
Of springy clouds and bore straight on toward | H3 |
The Duke On him her eyes burned steadily | D |
With such gray fires of heaven hot command | H3 |
As Dawn burns Night away with and she held | H3 |
Her white forefinger quivering aloft | H3 |
At greatest arm's length of her dainty arm | O4 |
In menace sweeter than a kiss could be | D |
And terribler than sudden whispers are | U |
That come from lips unseen in sunlit room | T4 |
So with the spell of all the Powers of Sense | D |
That e'er have swayed the savagery of hot blood | H3 |
Raying from her whole body beautiful | Q2 |
She held the eyes and wills of all the crowd | H3 |
Then from the numbed hand of him that cut | H3 |
The knife dropped down and the quick fool stole in | D |
And snatched and deftly severed all the withes | D |
Unseen and Jacques burst forth into the crowd | H3 |
And then the mass completed the long breath | L2 |
They had forgot to draw and surged upon | D |
The centre where the maiden stood with sound | H3 |
Of multitudes of blessings and Lord Raoul | Q2 |
Rode homeward silent and most pale and strange | U4 |
Deep wrapt in moody fits of hot and cold | H3 |
End of Chapter V | D |
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Macon Georgia | V4 |
Sidney Lanier
(1)
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