Classic Poem

1.

By the door of the cathedral
Stand two figures scarlet-coated,
And the king himself the one is,
And the other is the headsman.

Says the monarch to the headsman,
" From the hymn the priests are singing
Seem the nuptials to be over —
Let thy goodly axe be ready. "

Peal of bells and roll of organ;
Stream of folk from out the minster;
Festal-robed in the procession
Move the lovers newly wedded.

Spectre-pale, and sad, and fearful,
Is the monarch's lovely daughter;
Bold and debonair, Sir Olave,
And his rosy mouth is smiling.

Gay he greets the gloomy monarch
With his smiling mouth and rosy:
" Father freshly won, good morrow;
Forfeit duly is my head now.

" Since to-day I surely perish,
Let me live — ah, live! — till midnight,
That, with feast and torchlight dancing,
I may celebrate my wedding.

" Let me live till drained and empty
Is the last of all the goblets;
Let me dance till dance is over —
Let me live and love till midnight! "

Spake the king then to the headsman,
" To our son-in-law a respite
Until midnight be accorded —
Let thy goodly axe be ready. "

II.

At his wedding feast Sir Olave sups;
He drains the last of all his cups.
Upon his shoulder lies
His wife and sighs —
By the door the headsman is standing.

The dance begins; by the torches' blaze
Sir Olave clasps his bride, nor stays
His foot till, wild and fast,
They have danced their last —
By the door the headsman is standing.

The fiddles strike up so merry and glad,
The flutes, they sigh and grieve so sad!
The watchers gaze with woe,
As they come and go —
By the door the headsman is standing.

And, as they dance to the music's cheer.
Sir Olive stoops and whispers drear,
" The half of my love is untold,
And the grave is so cold " —
By the door the headsman is standing.

III.

Sir Olave, 'tis the midnight hour;
Thy life is sped and over!
Thou hast enticed a prince's child
To take thee for her lover.

The priests, they murmur the funeral mass,
The man in scarlet's ready;
He stands beside the sombre block,
And holds his good axe steady.

Sir Olave steps to the court adown,
Where the gleaming lights and swords are:
His rosy mouth is smiling gay,
And gay as his mouth his words are:

" I bless the sun, I bless the moon,
And I bless the stars of even;
I also bless the little birds
That pipe in the blue of heaven.

" I bless the sea, I bless the land,
And the flowers upon the meadow;
The violets too, for, like my bride's,
Are their eyes of wistful shadow.

" Ye violet eyes of my bride, so blue,
For your sake my life is over!
Yet most I bless the elder tree
Where you took me for your lover. "