Part 5

Till now trim homesteads bordered spaces green, Like night's first little stars through clearing showers. Was rumoured how a castle's falcon towers The wilderness commanded with fierce mien.

XIV

Therein a serious Baron stuck his lance; For minstrel songs a beauteous Dame would pout. Gay knights and sombre, felon or devout, Pricked onward, bound for their unsung romance.

It might be that two errant lords across The block of each came edged, and at sharp cry They charged forthwith, the better man to try. One rode his way, one couched on quiet moss.

XVI

Perchance a lady sweet, whose lord lay slain, The robbers into gruesome durance drew. Swift should her hero come, like lightning's blue! She prayed for him, as crackling drought for rain.

XVII

As we, that ere the worst her hero haps, Of Angels guided, nigh that loathly den: A toady cave beside an ague fen, Where long forlorn the lone dog whines and yaps.

XVIII

By daylight now the forest fear could read Itself, and at new wonders chuckling went. Straight for the roebuck's neck the bowman spent A dart that laughed at distance and at speed.

XIX

Right loud the bugle's hallali elate Rang forth of merry dingles round the tors; And deftest hand was he from foreign wars, But soon he hailed the home-bred yeoman mate.

Before the blackbird pecked the turf they woke; At dawn the deer's wet nostrils blew their last. To forest, haunt of runs and prime repast, With paying blows, the yokel strained his yoke.

XXI

The city urchin mooned on forest air, On grassy sweeps and flying arrows, thick As swallows o'er smooth streams, and sighed him sick For thinking that his dearer home was there.

XXII

Familiar, still unseized, the forest sprang An old-world echo, like no mortal thing. The hunter's horn might wind a jocund ring, But held in ear it had a chilly clang.

XXIII

Some shadow lurked aloof of ancient time; Some warning haunted any sound prolonged, As though the leagues of woodland held them wronged To hear an axe and see a township climb.

XXIV

The forest's erewhile emperor at eve Had voice when lowered heavens drummed for gales. At midnight a small people danced the dales, So thin that they might dwindle through a sieve

XXV

Ringed mushrooms told of them, and in their throats, Old wives that gathered herbs and knew too much. The pensioned forester beside his crutch, Struck showers from embers at those bodeful notes.

XXVI

Came then the one, all ear, all eye, all heart; Devourer, and insensibly devoured; In whom the city over forest flowered, The forest wreathed the city's drama-mart.

XXVII

There found he in new form that Dragon old, From tangled solitudes expelled; and taught How blindly each its antidote besought; For either's breath the needs of either told.

XXVIII