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 V4

Chapter IA
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Once on a time a Dawn all red and brightB
Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the NightB
And flamed one brilliant instant on the worldC
Then back into the historic moat was hurledC
And Night was King again for many yearsD
Once on a time the Rose of Spring blushed outE
But Winter angrily withdrew it backF
Into his rough new bursten husk and shutG
The stern husk leaves and hid it many yearsD
Once Famine tricked himself with ears of cornH
And Hate strung flowers on his spiked beltI
And glum Revenge in silver lilies pranked himJ
And Lust put violets on his shameless frontK
And all minced forth o' the street like holiday folkL
That sally off afield on Summer mornsD
Once certain hounds that knew of many a chaseD
And bare great wounds of antler and of tuskM
That they had ta'en to give a lord some sportN
Good hounds that would have died to give lords sportN
Were so bewrayed and kicked by these same lordsD
That all the pack turned tooth o' the knights and bitO
As knights had been no better things than boarsD
And took revenge as bloody as a man'sD
Unhoundlike sudden hot i' the chops and sweetP
Once sat a falcon on a lady's wristQ
Seeming to doze with wrinkled eye lid drawnR
But dreaming hard of hoods and slaveriesD
And of dim hungers in his heart and wingsD
Then while the mistress gazed above for gameS
Sudden he flew into her painted faceD
And hooked his horn claws in her lily throatT
And drove his beak into her lips and eyesD
In fierce and hawkish kissing that did scarU
And mar the lady's beauty evermoreV
And once while Chivalry stood tall and litheW
And flashed his sword above the stricken eyesD
Of all the simple peasant folk of FranceD
While Thought was keen and hot and quickX
And did not play as in these later daysD
Like summer lightning flickering in the westY
As little dreadful as if glow worms layZ
In the cool and watery clouds and glimmered weakA2
But gleamed and struck at once or oak or manB2
And left not space for Time to wave his wingC2
Betwixt the instantaneous flash and strokeL
While yet the needs of life were brave and fierceD
And did not hide their deeds behind their wordsD
And logic came not 'twixt desire and actD2
And Want and Take was the whole Form of lifeE2
While Love had fires a burning in his veinsD
And hidden Hate could flash into revengeF2
Ere yet young Trade was 'ware of his big thewsD
Or dreamed that in the bolder afterdaysD
He would hew down and bind old ChivalryG2
And drag him to the highest height of fameS
And plunge him thence in the sea of still RomanceD
To lie for aye in never rusted mailH2
Gleaming through quiet ripples of soft songsD
And sheens of old traditionary talesD
On such a time a certain May aroseD
From out that blue Sea that between five landsD
Lies like a violet midst of five large leavesD
Arose from out this violet and flew onI2
And stirred the spirits of the woods of FranceD
And smoothed the brows of moody Auvergne hillsD
And wrought warm sea tints into maidens' eyesD
And calmed the wordy air of market townsD
With faint suggestions blown from distant budsD
Until the land seemed a mere dream of landJ2
And in this dream field Life sat like a doveK2
And cooed across unto her dove mate DeathL2
Brooding pathetic by a river loneM2
Oh sharper tangs pierced through this perfumed MayZ
Strange aches sailed by with odors on the windN2
As when we kneel in flowers that grow on gravesD
Of friends who died unworthy of our loveK2
King John of France was proving such an acheO2
In English prisons wide and fair and grandJ2
Whose long expanses of green park and chaceD
Did ape large liberty with such successD
As smiles of irony ape smiles of loveK2
Down from the oaks of Hertford Castle parkP2
Double with warm rose breaths of southern SpringC2
Came rumors as if odors too had thornsD
Sharp rumors how the three Estates of FranceD
Like old Three headed Cerberus of HellQ2
Had set upon the Duke of NormandyG2
Their rightful Regent snarled in his great faceD
Snapped jagged teeth in inch breadth of his throatT
And blown such hot and savage breath upon himJ
That he had tossed great sops of royaltyG2
Unto the clamorous three mawed baying beastR2
And was not further on his way withalQ2
And had but changed a snarl into a growlQ2
How Arnold de Cervolles had ta'en the trackF
That war had burned along the unhappy landJ2
Shouting since France is then too poor to payZ
The soldiers that have bloody devoir doneS2
And since needs must pardie a man must eatP
Arm gentlemen swords slice as well as knives '-
And so had tempted stout men from the ranksD
And now was adding robbers' waste to war'sD
Stealing the leavings of remorseless battleQ2
And making gaunter the gaunt bones of wantT2
How this Cervolles called Arch priest by the massD
Through warm Provence had marched and menace madeU2
Against Pope Innocent at AvignonR
And how the Pope nor ate nor drank nor sleptV2
Through godly fear concerning his red winesD
For if these knaves should sack his holy houseD
And all the blessed casks be knocked o' the headW2
HORRENDUM all his Holiness' drink to beG2
Profanely guzzled down the reeking throatsD
Of scoundrels and inflame them on to seizeD
The massy coffers of the Church's goldX2
And steal mayhap the carven silver shrineY2
And all the golden crucifixes NoZ2
And so the holy father Pope made stirA3
And had sent forth a legate to CervollesD
And treated with him and made compromiseD
And last had bidden all the Arch priest's troopB3
To come and banquet with him in his houseD
Where they did wassail high by night and dayZ
And Father Pope sat at the board and carvedC3
Midst jokes that flowed full greasilyQ2
And priest and soldier trolled good songs for massD
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 postillonZ2
Upon the back of Time and urged him onZ2
With piquant spur past chapel and past crossD
How Charles King of Navarre in long duressD
By mandate of King John within the wallsD
Of Crevacoeur and then of strong AlleresD
In faithful ward of Sir Tristan du BoisD
Was now escaped had supped with Guy KyrecF
Had now a pardon of the Regent DukeF
By half compulsion of a Paris mobD3
Had turned the people's love upon himselfE3
By smooth harangues and now was bold to claimS
That France was not the Kingdom of King JohnZ2
But By our Lady his by right and worthF3
And so was plotting treason in the StateG3
And laughing at weak Charles of NormandyG2
Nay these had been like good news to the KingF
Were any man but bold enough to tellQ2
The King what bitter sayings men had madeU2
And hawked augmenting up and down the landJ2
Against the barons and great lords of FranceD
That fled from English arrows at PoictiersD
POICTIERS POICTIERS this grain i' the eye of FranceD
Had swelled it to a big and bloodshot ballQ2
That looked with rage upon a world askewF
Poictiers' disgrace was now but two years oldX2
Yet so outrageous rank and full was grownZ2
That France was wholly overspread with shadeU2
And bitter fruits lay on the untilled groundH3
That stank and bred so foul contagious smellsD
That not a nose in France but stood awryA
Nor boor that cried not FAUGH upon the airI3
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Chapter IIA
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Franciscan friar John de RochetailladeH3
With gentle gesture lifted up his handH3
And poised it high above the steady eyesD
Of a great crowd that thronged the market placeD
In fair Clermont to hear him prophesyD
Midst of the crowd old Gris Grillon the maimedH3
A wretched wreck that fate had floated outH3
From the drear storm of battle at PoictiersD
A living man whose larger moietyH3
Was dead and buried on the battle fieldH3
A grisly trunk without or arms or legsD
And scarred with hoof cuts over cheek and browJ3
Lay in his wicker cradle smilingF
JacquesD
Quoth he My son I would behold this priestH3
That is not fat and loves not wine and fastsD
And stills the folk with waving of his handH3
And threats the knights and thunders at the PopeK3
Make way for Gris ye who are whole of limbJ
Set me on yonder ledge that I may seeD
Forthwith a dozen horny hands reached outH3
And lifted Gris Grillon upon the ledgeL3
Whereon he lay and overlooked the crowdH3
And from the gray grown hedges of his browsD
Shot forth a glance against the friar's eyeA
That struck him like an arrowZ2
Then the friarA3
With voice as low as if a maiden hummedH3
Love songs of Provence in a mild day dreamM3
And when he broke the second seal I heardH3
The second beast say Come and seeD
And thenZ2
Went out another horse and he was redH3
And unto him that sat thereon was givenZ2
To take the peace of earth away and setH3
Men killing one another and they gaveN3
To him a mighty swordH3
The friar pausedH3
And pointed round the circle of sad eyesD
There is no face of man or woman hereO3
But showeth print of the hard hoof of warV
Ah yonder leaneth limbless Gris GrillonZ2
Friends Gris Grillon is FranceD
Good France my FranceD
Wilt never walk on glory's hills againZ2
Wilt never work among thy vines againZ2
Art footless and art handless evermoreV
Thou felon War I do arraign thee nowZ2
Of mayhem of the four main limbs of FranceD
Thou old red criminal stand forth I chargeP3
But O I am too utter sorrowfulQ2
To urge large accusation nowZ2
NathlessD
My work to day is still more grievous HearO3
The stains that war hath wrought upon the landH3
Show but as faint white flecks if seen o' the sideH3
Of those blood covered images that stalkF
Through yon cold chambers of the future asD
The prophet mood now stealing on my soulQ2
Reveals them marching marching marching SeeD
There go the kings of France in piteous fileQ2
The deadly diamonds shining in their crownsD
Do wound the foreheads of their MajestiesD
And glitter through a setting of blood goutsD
As if they smiled to think how men are slainZ2
By the sharp facets of the gem of powerA3
And how the kings of men are slaves of stonesD
But look The long procession of the kingsD
Wavers and stops the world is full of noiseD
The ragged peoples storm the palacesD
They rave they laugh they thirst they lap the streamM3
That trickles from the regal vestments downZ2
And lapping smack their heated chaps for moreV
And ply their daggers for it till the kingsD
All die and lie in a crooked sprawl of deathL2
Ungainly foul and stiff as any heapQ3
Of villeins rotting on a battle fieldH3
'Tis true that when these things have come to passD
Then never a king shall rule again in FranceD
For every villein shall be king in FranceD
And who hath lordship in him whether bornZ2
In hedge or silken bed shall be a lordH3
And queens shall be as thick i' the land as wivesD
And all the maids shall maids of honor beD
And high and low shall commune solemnlyD
And stars and stones shall have free interviewF
But woe is me 'tis also piteous trueF
That ere this gracious time shall visit FranceD
Your graves Beloved shall be some centuries oldH3
And so your children's and their children's gravesD
And many generations'D
Ye O yeD
Shall grieve and ye shall grieve and ye shall grieveR3
Your Life shall bend and o'er his shuttle toilQ2
A weaver weaving at the loom of griefS3
Your Life shall sweat 'twixt anvil and hot forgeT3
An armorer working at the sword of griefS3
Your Life shall moil i' the ground and plant his seedH3
A farmer foisoning a huge crop of griefS3
Your Life shall chaffer in the market placeD
A merchant trading in the goods of griefS3
Your Life shall go to battle with his bowZ2
A soldier fighting in defence of griefS3
By every rudder that divides the seasD
Tall Grief shall stand the helmsman of the shipU3
By every wain that jolts along the roadsD
Stout Grief shall walk the driver of the teamM3
Midst every herd of cattle on the hillsD
Dull Grief shall lie the herdsman of the droveV3
Oh Grief shall grind your bread and play your lutesD
And marry you and bury youF
How elseD
Who's here in France can win her people's faithW3
And stand in front and lead the people onZ2
Where is the ChurchX3
The Church is far too fatH3
Not mark by robust swelling of the thewsD
But puffed and flabby large with gross increaseD
Of wine fat plague fat dropsy fatH3
O shameS
Thou Pope that cheatest God at AvignonZ2
Thou that shouldst be the Father of the worldH3
And Regent of it whilst our God is goneZ2
Thou that shouldst blaze with conferred majestyD
And smite old Lust o' the Flesh so as by flameS
Thou that canst turn thy key and lock Grief upY3
Or turn thy key and unlock Heaven's GateH3
Thou that shouldst be the veritable handH3
That Christ down stretcheth out of heaven yetH3
To draw up him that fainteth to His heartH3
Thou that shouldst bear thy fruit yet virgin liveZ3
As she that bore a man yet sinned notH3
Thou that shouldst challenge the most special eyesD
Of Heaven and Earth and Hell to mark thee sinceD
Thou shouldst be Heaven's best captain Earth's best friendH3
And Hell's best enemy false Pope false PopeK3
The world thy child is sick and like to dieH3
But thou art dinner drowsy and cannot comeA4
And Life is sore beset and crieth help '-
But thou brook'st not disturbance at thy wineZ2
And France is wild for one to lead her soulsD
But thou art huge and fat and laggest backF
Among the remnants of forsaken campsD
Thou'rt not God's Pope thou art the Devil's PopeK3
Thou art first Squire to that most puissant knightH3
Lord Satan who thy faithful squireship longF
Hath watched and well shall guerdonZ2
Ye sad soulsD
So faint with work ye love not so thin wornZ2
With miseries ye wrought not so outragedH3
By strokes of ill that pass th' ill doers' headsD
And cleave the innocent so desperate tiredH3
Of insult that doth day by day abuseD
The humblest dignity of humblest menZ2
Ye cannot call toward the Church for helpB4
The Church already is o'erworked with careI3
Of its dyspeptic stomachC4
Ha the ChurchX3
Forgets about eternityD
I hadH3
A vision of forgetfulnessD
O DreamM3
Born of a dream as yonder cloud is bornZ2
Of water which is born of cloudH3
I thoughtH3
I saw the moonlight lying large and calmD4
Upon the unthrobbing bosom of the earthF3
As a great diamond glittering on a shroudH3
A sense of breathlessness stilled all the worldH3
Motion stood dreaming he was changed to RestH3
And Life asleep did fancy he was DeathL2
A quick small shadow spotted the white worldH3
Then instantly 'twas huge and huger grewF
By instants till it did o'ergloom all spaceD
I lifted up mine eyes O thou just GodH3
I saw a spectre with a million headsD
Come frantic downward through the universeD
And all the mouths of it were uttering criesD
Wherein was a sharp agony and yetH3
The cries were much like laughs as if Pain laughedH3
Its myriad lips were blue and sometimes theyZ
Closed fast and only moaned dim sounds that shapedH3
Themselves to one word Homeless' and the starsD
Did utter back the moan and the great hillsD
Did bellow it and then the stars and hillsD
Bandied the grief o' the ghost 'twixt heaven and earthF3
The spectre sank and lay upon the airI3
And brooded level close upon the earthF3
With all the myriad heads just over meD
I glanced in all the eyes and marked that someA4
Did glitter with a flame of lunacyD
And some were soft and false as feigning loveK2
And some were blinking with hypocrisyD
And some were overfilmed by sense and someA4
Blazed with ambition's wild unsteady fireA3
And some were burnt i' the sockets black and someA4
Were dead as embers when the fire is outH3
A curious zone circled the Spectre's waistH3
Which seemed with strange device to symbol TimeE4
It was a silver gleaming thread of dayZ
Spiral about a jet black band of nightH3
This zone seemed ever to contract and allQ2
The frame with momentary spasms heavedH3
In the strangling traction which did never ceaseD
I cried unto the spectre Time hath boundH3
Thy body with the fibre of his hours '-
Then rose a multitude of mocking soundsD
And some mouths spat at me and cried thou fool'Q2
And some thou liest' and some he dreams' and thenZ2
Some hands uplifted certain bowls they boreV
To lips that writhed but drank with eagernessD
And some played curious viols shaped like heartsD
And stringed with loves to light and ribald tunesD
And other hands slit throats with knivesD
And others patted all the painted cheeksD
In reach and others stole what others hadH3
Unseen or boldly snatched at alien rightsD
And some o' the heads did vie in a foolish gameS
OF WHICH COULD HOLD ITSELF THE HIGHEST andH3
OF WHICH ONE'S NECK WAS STIFF THE LONGEST TIMEE4
And then the sea in silence wove a veilQ2
Of mist and breathed it upward and aboutH3
And waved and wound it softly round the worldH3
And meshed my dream i' the vague and endless foldsD
And a light wind arose and blew these offF4
And I awokeF
The many heads are priestsD
That have forgot eternity and TimeE4
Hath caught and bound them with a witheG4
Into a fagot huge to burn in hellQ2
Now if the priesthood put such shame uponZ2
Your cry for leadership can better helpB4
Come out of knighthoodH3
Lo you smile you boorsD
You villeins smile at knighthoodH3
Now thou FranceD
That wert the mother of fair chivalryD
Unclose thine eyes unclose thine eyes here seeD
Here stand a herd of knaves that laugh to scornZ2
Thy gentlemenZ2
O contumely hardH3
O bitterness of last disgrace O stingF
That stings the coward knights of lost PoictiersD
I would but now a murmur rose i' the crowdH3
Of angry voices and the friar leaptH3
From where he stood to preach and pressed a pathH4
Betwixt the mass that way the voices cameS
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Chapter IIIA
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Lord Raoul was riding castleward from fieldH3
At left hand rode his lady and at rightH3
His fool whom he loved better and his birdH3
His fine ger falcon best beloved of allQ2
Sat hooded on his wrist and gently swayedH3
To the undulating amble of the horseD
Guest knights and huntsmen and a noisy trainZ2
Of loyal stomached flatterers and their squiresD
Clattered in retinue and aped his paceD
And timed their talk by his and worked their eyesD
By intimation of his glance with greatH3
And drilled precisionZ2
Then said the foolQ2
'Twas a brave flight my lord that last one braveN3
Didst note the heron once did turn aboutH3
And show a certain anger with his wingF
And make as if he almost dared not quiteH3
To strike the falcon ere the falcon himJ
A foolish damnable advised birdH3
Yon heron What Shall herons grapple hawksD
God made the herons for the hawks to strikeF
And hawk and heron made he for lords' sportH3
What then my honey tongued Fool that knowestH3
God's purposes what made he fools forV
ForV
To counsel lords my lord Wilt hear me proveI4
Fools' counsel better than wise men's adviceD
Aye prove it If thy logic fail wise foolQ2
I'll cause two wise men whip thee soundlyD
SoD
Wise men are prudent prudent men have careI3
For their own proper interest therefore theyZ
Advise their own advantage not another'sD
But fools are careless careless men care notH3
For their own proper interest therefore theyZ
Advise their friend's advantage not their own '-
Now hear the commentary Cousin RaoulQ2
This fool unselfish counsels thee his lordH3
Go not through yonder square where as thou see'stH3
Yon herd of villeins crick necked all with strainZ2
Of gazing upward stand and gaze and takeF
With open mouth and eye and ear the quipsD
And heresies of John de RochetailladeH3
Lord Raoul half turned him in his saddle roundH3
And looked upon his fool and vouchsafed himJ
What moiety of fastidious wondermentH3
A generous nobleness could deign to giveJ4
To such humility with eye superbK4
Where languor and surprise both showed themselvesD
Each deprecating t'otherA3
Now dear knaveN3
Be kind and tell me tell me quickly tooH3
Some proper reasonable ground or causeD
Nay tell me but some shadow of some causeD
Nay hint me but a thin ghost's dream of causeD
So will I thee absolve from being whippedH3
Why I Lord Raoul should turn my horse asideH3
From riding by yon pitiful villein gangF
Or ay by God from riding o'er their headsD
If so my humor serve or through their bodiesD
Or miring fetlocks in their nasty brainsD
Or doing aught else I will in my ClermontH3
Do me this grace mine IdiotH3
Please thy WisdomA4
An thou dost ride through this same gang of boorsD
'Tis my fool's prophecy some ill shall fallQ2
Lord Raoul yon mass of various flesh is fusedH3
And melted quite in one by white hot wordsD
The friar speaks Sir sawest thou ne'er sometimesD
Thine armorer spit on iron when 'twas hotH3
And how the iron flung the insult backF
Hissing So this contempt now in thine eyeH3
If it shall fall on yonder heated surfaceD
May bounce back upward Well and then What thenZ2
Why if thou cause thy folk to crop some villein's earsD
So evil falls and a fool foretells the truthL4
Or if some erring crossbow bolt should breakF
Thine unarmed head shot from behind a houseD
So evil falls and a fool foretells the truthL4
Well quoth Lord Raoul with languid utteranceD
'Tis very well and thou'rt a foolish foolQ2
Nay thou art Folly's perfect witless manZ2
Stupidity doth madly dote on theeD
And Idiocy doth fight her for thy loveK2
Yet Silliness doth love thee best of allQ2
And while they quarrel snatcheth thee to herA3
And saith Ah 'tis my sweetest No brains mine '-
And 'tis my mood to day some ill shall fallQ2
And there right suddenly Lord Raoul gave reinZ2
And galloped straightway to the crowded squareI3
What time a strange light flickered in the eyesD
Of the calm fool that was not folly's gleamM3
But more like wisdom's smile at plan well laidH3
And end well compassed In the noise of hoofsD
Secure the fool low muttered Folly's love '-
So Silliness' sweetheart no brains ' quoth my LordH3
Why how intolerable an ass is heD
Whom Silliness' sweetheart drives so by the earO3
Thou languid lordly most heart breaking NoughtH3
Thou bastard zero that hast come to powerA3
Nothing's right issue failing Thou mere pooh'B4
That Life hath uttered in some moment's petH3
And then forgot she uttered thee Thou gapB4
In time thou little notch in circumstanceD
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Chapter IVK2
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Lord Raoul drew rein with all his companyD
And urged his horse i' the crowd to gain fair viewK2
Of him that spoke and stopped at last and satH3
Still underneath where Gris Grillon was laidH3
And heard somewhile with languid scornful gazeD
The friar putting blame on priest and knightH3
But presently as 'twere in wearinessD
He gazed about and then above and soD
Made mark of Gris GrillonD
So there old manD
Thou hast more brows than legsD
I would quoth GrisD
That thou upon a certain time I wotH3
Hadst had less legs and bigger brows my LordH3
Then all the flatterers and their squires cried outH3
Solicitous with various voice Go toH3
Old Rogue or Shall I brain him my good LordH3
Or So let me but chuck him from his perchX3
Or Slice his tongue to piece his leg withalQ2
Or Send his eyes to look for his missing armsD
But my Lord Raoul was in the mood to dayH3
Which craves suggestions simply with a viewH3
To flout them in the face and so waved handH3
Backward and stayed the on pressing sycophantsD
Eager to buy rich praise with bravery cheapB4
I would know why he said thou wishedst meD
Less legs and bigger brows and whenD
Wouldst knowD
Learn then cried Gris Grillon and stirred himselfK2
In a great spasm of passion mixed with painD
An thou hadst had more courage and less speedH3
Then ah my God then could not I have beenD
That piteous gibe of a man thou see'st I amM4
Sir having no disease nor any taintH3
Nor old hereditament of sin or shameS
But feeling the brave bound and energyD
Of daring health that leaps along the veinsD
As a hart upon his river banks at mornD
Sir wild with the urgings and hot strenuous beatsD
Of manhood's heart in this full sinewed breastH3
Which thou may'st even now discern is mineD
Sir full aware each instant in each dayH3
Of motions of great muscles once were mineD
And thrill of tense thew knots and stinging senseD
Of nerves nice capable and delicateH3
Sir visited each hour by passions greatH3
That lack all instrument of utteranceD
Passion of love that hath no arm to curveK2
Passion of speed that hath no limb to stretchN4
Yea even that poor feeling of desireA3
Simply to turn me from this side to thatH3
Which brooded on into wild passion growsD
By reason of the impotence that broodsD
Balked of its end and unachievableQ2
Without assistance of some foreign armO4
Sir moved and thrilled like any perfect manD
O trebly moved and thrilled since poor desiresD
That are of small import to happy menD
Who easily can compass them to meD
Become mere hopeless Heavens or actual HellsD
Sir strengthened so with manhood's seasoned soulQ2
I lie in this damned cradle day and nightH3
Still still so still my Lord less than a babeP4
In powers but more than any man in needsD
Dreaming with open eye of days when menD
Have fallen cloven through steel and bone and fleshQ4
At single strokes of this of that big armO4
Once wielded aught a mortal arm might wieldH3
Waking a prey to any foolish gnatH3
That wills to conquer my defenceless browZ2
And sit thereon in triumph hounded everA3
By small necessities of barest useD
Which since I cannot compass them aloneD
Do snarl my helplessness into mine earO3
Howling behind me that I have no handsD
And yelping round me that I have no feetH3
So that my heart is stretched by tiny illsD
That are so much the larger that I knewH3
In bygone days how trifling small they wereA3
Dungeoned in wicker strong as 'twere in stoneD
Fast chained with nothing firmer than with steelQ2
Captive in limb yet free in eye and earO3
Sole tenant of this puny Hell in HeavenD
And this all this because I was a manD
For in the battle ha thou know'st pale faceD
When that the four great English horsemen boreV
So bloodily on thee I leapt to frontH3
To front of thee of thee and fought four bladesD
Thinking to win thee time to snatch thy breathL2
And by a rearing fore hoof stricken downD
Mine eyes through blood my brain through painD
Midst of a dim hot uproar fainting downD
Were 'ware of thee far rearward fleeing HoundH3
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Chapter VD
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Then as the passion of old Gris GrillonD
A wave swift swelling grew to highest heightH3
And snapped a foaming consummation forthR4
With salty hissing came the friar throughH3
The mass A stillness of white faces wroughtH3
A transient death on all the hands and breastsD
Of all the crowd and men and women stoodH3
One instant fixed as they had died uprightH3
Then suddenly Lord Raoul rose up in selleQ2
And thrust his dagger straight upon the breastH3
Of Gris Grillon to pin him to the wallQ2
But ere steel point met flesh tall Jacques GrillonD
Had leapt straight upward from the earth and inD
The self same act had whirled his bow by endH3
With mighty whirr about his head and struckC4
The dagger with so featly stroke and fullQ2
That blade flew up and hilt flew down and leftH3
Lord Raoul unfriended of his weaponD
ThenD
The fool cried shrilly Shall a knight of FranceD
Go stabbing his own cattle And Lord RaoulQ2
Calm with a changing mood sat still and calledH3
Here huntsmen 'tis my will ye seize the hindH3
That broke my dagger bind him to this treeD
And slice both ears to hair breadth of his headH3
To be his bloody token of regretH3
That he hath put them to so foul employQ2
As catching villainous breath of strolling priestsD
That mouth at knighthood and defile the ChurchX3
The knife Rest of line lostH3
To place the edge Rest of line lostH3
Mary the blood it oozes sluggishlyD
Scorning to come at call of blade so baseD
Sathanas He that cuts the ear has leftH3
The blade sticking at midway for to turnD
And ask the Duke if 'tis not doneD
Thus far with nice precision and the DukeF
Leans down to see and cries 'tis marvellous niceD
Shaved as thou wert ear barber by professionD
Whereat one witling cries 'tis monstrous fitH3
In sooth a shaven pated priest should haveK2
A shaven eared audience and anotherA3
Give thanks thou Jacques to this most gracious DukeF
That rids thee of the life long dread of lossD
Of thy two ears by cropping them at onceD
And now henceforth full safely thou may'st dareI3
The powerfullest Lord in France to touchS4
An ear of thine and now the knave o' the knifeK2
Seizes the handle to commence again and sawsD
And ha Lift up thine head O Henry FriendH3
'Tis Marie walking midway of the streetH3
As she had just stepped forth from out the gateH3
Of the very very Heaven where God isD
Still glittering with the God shine on her LookF
And there right suddenly the fool looked upB4
And saw the crowd divided in two ranksD
Raoul pale stricken as a man that waitsD
God's first remark when he hath died intoH3
God's sudden presence saw the cropping knaveK2
A pause with knife in hand the wondering folkF
All straining forward with round ringed eyesD
And Gris Grillon calm smiling while he prayedH3
The Holy Virgin's blessingF
Down the laneD
Betwixt the hedging bodies of the crowdH3
Part of line lost majestyD
Part of line lost a spirit pacing on the topB4
Of springy clouds and bore straight on towardH3
The Duke On him her eyes burned steadilyD
With such gray fires of heaven hot commandH3
As Dawn burns Night away with and she heldH3
Her white forefinger quivering aloftH3
At greatest arm's length of her dainty armO4
In menace sweeter than a kiss could beD
And terribler than sudden whispers areU
That come from lips unseen in sunlit roomT4
So with the spell of all the Powers of SenseD
That e'er have swayed the savagery of hot bloodH3
Raying from her whole body beautifulQ2
She held the eyes and wills of all the crowdH3
Then from the numbed hand of him that cutH3
The knife dropped down and the quick fool stole inD
And snatched and deftly severed all the withesD
Unseen and Jacques burst forth into the crowdH3
And then the mass completed the long breathL2
They had forgot to draw and surged uponD
The centre where the maiden stood with soundH3
Of multitudes of blessings and Lord RaoulQ2
Rode homeward silent and most pale and strangeU4
Deep wrapt in moody fits of hot and coldH3
End of Chapter VD
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Macon GeorgiaV4

Sidney Lanier



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