Classic Poem

I.

The Leaguer round the castle wall
Had oft beheld its bravest fall,
While week on week went by;
Nor fraud nor onset aught availed,
Those walls of granite never quailed,
Those men were sworn to die.

II.

The castle's Lord was far away,
But still its Lady roused the fray,
Steel heart in lovely breast!
And many a fiery rush was vain,
And spent the arrow's piercing rain
Against that rocky crest.

III.

But sickness came, and biting need,
That tames the forward spirit's deed,
And slacks the strongest hand.
With hollow looks their foes they eyed,
And wasted limbs were nerved by pride,
That scarce could wield the brand.

IV.

One night the moon was hid in cloud,
The mountain-wind was speaking loud,
The sky was drear and chill,
When sudden word went round the towers,
That all must join with banded powers,
And hurry down the hill.

V.

Then trembling hands and fainting hearts,
And souls that only woke by starts,
Were scared and drooped away.
The banner hung a powerless rag,
'Mild men who oft around that flag
Had drenched in blood the clay.

VI.

Upon his lonely watch there stood
An aged man of sullen mood,
But known in many a fight, —
Old Mark the Greybeard, deeply scarred
With wounds that much his face had marred,
Yet strong with lingering might.

VII.

To him the Lady gliding came,
A pale and solitary dame,
And spake with glancing eyes —
" Thou know'st, my friend, our need so sore,
Thou know'st all other hope is o'er,
Except what Will supplies.

VIII.

" Thou stand the first, and lift thy sword;
Two hundred men will own thy word
And rush upon the foe. "
Stern Mark replied, " My cravings speak
As clear as thou, but I am weak;
By Heaven! I will not go! "

IX.

A moment's pause, a passing thought
Deep change upon her spirit wrought,
Though crossed by fear and shame;
And soon with downeast eye she said, —
" Then I alone must give thee aid;
May God forgive the blame!

X.

" Thou lov'st my son, my only child,
Who oft upon thy arms has smiled,
And watched thy plume go by:
My breast now scarce can yield him food,
For I have none to cheer my blood;
But thou shalt drain it dry. "

XI.

The soldier on the lady gazed,
And trembled sore — his blade he raised,
And swiftly turned away.
With tramp of strength, and battle-cry,
He drew the band beneath his eye,
And hurrying sought the fray.

XII.

Before that charge of pale despair,
The lusty throng collected there
Were torn, and dashed, and driven;
And sweeping up the valley came,
With lances fixed and torches flame,
The Chief restored by Heaven.

XIII.

Between those double powers hemmed in,
The foes were crushed with shrieks and din,
And trampled down to gore.
Amid them Mark was pierced, and fell,
While loud the trumpet rang to tell
His slayers lived no more.

XIV.

In other years that noble boy,
His sire and mother's only joy,
The tale by her was told;
For life the sword of Mark he wore,
And when he died, his tombstone bore
The blade in shrine of gold.

XV.

Beside his tomb another stood
Where lay in marble Blanche the Good,
Like one in faith who dies.
The stainless lady's breast was bare,
And Mark's grey ghost was warder there,
To daunt irreverent eyes.