Classic Poem

Like to the rising of the morning ray,
Albeit arisen on ruin, waste and wreck,
When storm has happened since the last sunk day,
So can the soul herself with brightness deck,
When new-found resolution bears her on,
And bids her not of broken hopes to reck:
So can she make to shine the beam that shone
On works that perished in a night of woe,
On waste of toil, on wreck of promise gone
Thus was it found, when we began to go
In homeward voyage our remeasured road
By river, plain, or hill, or valley low
Which we had passed before: not now they showed
Their former face, the radiance that they wore,
The light by hope and enterprise bestowed
But when we came beyond the Italian shore
Into the Alps, the abrupt of icy cold,
Then Mano in his face new purpose bore;
As if that late distress were now of old,
Or put to distance in the deeps of heart,
And to life's eye new solace were unrolled.
But I the while grew sadder on my part,
Foreboding more the nearer home we drew
Through all the realms that Burgundy dispart
And when to Normandy our travel grew,
That land which from old misery knew I,
But he from better memory only knew,
Then hope more fully lit his inward eye;
And there at length we rested from our way,
And fixed ourselves in a fair hostelry.
Then he bethought him of the prouder day
When he for Blanche the Fair had burned and sighed,
Who for Giroie had flung his love away:
Of her much thought he and her glorious pride,
But of Joanna more, her sister dear,
Who now in cloister's strictness did abide.
The name of her full often did I hear
Burst from his lips with groanings miserable
Of pity, of love, and of distracted cheer
" Ah, couldst thou know, poor dove, how hard a spell
Of heart-ache in my breast is kept for thee,
Sure holiness would comfort thee not well:
" Thou, with whom once I joyed, thou who to me
Alone in life hast given that blessedness
Which but they know who love exceedingly:
" Couldst thou know all, heaven might content thee less. "
Thus would he say: or else in manner wild,
" Was thy sweet banquet spread, thou gentleness,
" Which wanted still thy guest, oh loveliest child!
Ah, now to me are many thoughts grown clear,
Which then I knew not, being but beguiled,
" Yea, fooled perchance by him whom I held dear.
But now, albeit in a day too late,
To thy still dwelling am I drawing near. "
Thus ever on the road he held debate,
Within his mind, suspicious, it might be,
Of Gerbert's counsel of unhappy fate,
Who kept Joanna's love in secrecy,
Whenas the same she did to him confess
Ere Mano took the way to Italy
For love may kindle love, though late not less;
And kindled love, of whatso bars his way,
All secret though it be, is keen to guess
Then in the hostelry wherein we lay,
It came into my mind that not far thence
Stood Blanche's gard, the castle high and gay,
Where with Giroie she kept her residence,
And, filled with mighty wealth, her high-towered seat
Above her manors rose in eminence.
Which thing to Mano when I gan repeat,
He answered, " Dread have I, hearing that name,
For great upon me is her power sweet:
" But not the less go we to seek the same,
As pilgrims both: and thou the words shalt speak,
But I shall keep in silence, fearing shame. "
This was agreed when the next day should break.