Classic Poem

This is the scene on which now enters in
Eviradnus; and follows page Gasclin.

The outer walls were almost all decayed,
The door, for ancient Marquises once made—
Raised many steps above the courtyard near—
Commanded view of the horizon clear.
The forest looked a great gulf all around,
And on the rock of Corbus there were found
Secret and blood-stained precipices tall.
Duke Plato built the tower and banquet hall
Over great pits,—so was it Rumour said.
The flooring sounds 'neath Eviradnus' tread
Above abysses many.
“Page,” said he,
Come here, your eyes than mine can better see,
For sight is woman-like and shuns the old;
Ah! he can see enough, when years are told,
Who backwards looks. But, boy, turn towards the glad
And tell me what you see.”
The boy obeyed,
And leaned across the threshold, while the bright,
Full moon shed o'er the glade its white, pure light
“I see a horse and woman on it now,”
Said Gasclin, “and companions also show.”
“Who are they?” asked the seeker of sublime
Adventures. “Sir, I now can hear like chime
The sound of voices, and men's voices too,
Laughter and talk; two men there are in view,
Across the road the shadows clear I mark
Of horses three.”
“Enough. Now, Gasclin, hark!”
Exclaimed the knight, “you must at once return
By other path than that which you discern,
So that you be not seen. At break of day
Bring back our horses fresh, and every way
Caparisoned; now leave me, boy, I say.”
The page looked at his master like a son,
And said to him, “Oh, if I might stay on,
For they are two.”
“Go—I suffice alone!”