Classic Poem

Earl Lefric by his hasty oath must solemnly abide;
He thought to put a hopeless bar, and finds it turned aside;
His lady to remove the toll that makes the land forlorn,
Will surely ride through Coventry, naked as she was born;
She said—the people will be kind; they love a gentle deed;
They piously will turn from me, nor shame a friend in need.

Earl Lefric, half in holy dread, and half in loving care,
Hath bade the people all keep close in penitence and prayer;
The windows are fast boarded up; nor hath a sound been heard
Since yester-eve, save household dog, or latest summer-bird;
Only Saint Mary's bell begins at intervals to go,
Which is to last till all be past, to let obedience know.

The mass is said; the priest hath blessed the lady's pious will;
Then down the stairs she comes undressed, but in a mantle still;
Her ladies are about her close, like mist about a star;
She speaks some little cheerful words, but knows not what they are;
The door is passed; the saddle pressed; her body feels the air;
Then down they let, from out its net, her locks of piteous hair

Oh, then how every listener feels, the palfrey's foot that hears!
The rudest are awed suddenly, the soft and brave in tears;
The poorest that were most in need of what the lady did,
Deem her a blessed creature born to rescue men forbid:
He that had said they could have died for her beloved sake,
Had rated low the thanks of woe. Death frights not old Heart-ache.

Sweet saint! No shameless brow was hers, who could not bear to see,
For thinking of her happier lot, the pine of poverty:
No unaccustomed deed she did, in scorn of custom's self,
She that but wished the daily bread upon the poor man's shelf.
Naked she went, to clothe the naked. New she was, and bold,
Only because she held the laws which Mercy preached of old.

They say she blushed to be beheld, e'en of her ladies' eyes;
Then took her way with downward look, and brief, bewildered sighs.
A downward look; a beating heart; a sense of the new, vast,
Wide, open, naked world, and yet of every door she passed;
A prayer, a tear, a constant mind, a listening ear that glowed,
These we may dare to fancy there, on that religious road.

But who shall blind his heart with more? Who dare, with lavish guess,
Refuse the grace she hoped of us, in her divine distress?
In fancy still she holds her way, forever pacing on,
The sight unseen, the guiltless Eve, the shame unbreathed upon;
The step, that upon Duty's ear is growing more and more,
Though yet, alas! it hath to pass by many a scorner's door.