Читать книгу Lays and Legends of the English Lake Country - White John White - Страница 11

The widows were sitting in Threlkeld Hall;

The corn stood green on Midsummer-day;

Their little grand-children were tossing the ball;

And the farmers leaned over the garden wall;

And the widows were spinning the eve away.

They busily talk'd of the days long gone,

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day;

How old Sir Lancelot's armour had shone

On the panels of oak by the broad hearthstone,

Where the widows sat spinning that eve away.

For, Threlkeld Hall of his mansions three—

Where the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—

Was his noblest house; and a stately tree

Was the good old Knight, and of high degree;

And a braver rode never in battle array.

Now peaceful farmers think of their corn—

The corn so green on Midsummer-day—

Where once, at the blast of Sir Lancelot's horn,

His horsemen all mustered, his banner was borne;

And he went like a Chief in his pride to the fray.

And there the good Clifford, the Shepherd-Lord,

When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day,

Sat, humbly clad, at Sir Lancelot's board;

And tended the flocks, while rusted his sword

In the hall where the widows were spinning away;

Till the new King called him back to his own—

When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—

To his honours and name of high renown;

When Sir Lancelot old and feeble had grown;

From his rude shepherd-life called Lord Clifford away.

And sad was that morrow in Threlkeld Hall—

And the corn was green on that Midsummer-day—

When the Clifford stood ready to part from all;

And his shepherd's staff was hung up on the wall,

In that room where the widows sat spinning away.

And Sir Lancelot mounted, and called his men—

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—

And he gazed on Lord Clifford again and again;

And Sir Lancelot rode with him over the plain;

And at length with strong effort his silence gave way.

"I am old," Sir Lancelot said; "and I know—

When the corn stands green on Midsummer-day—

There will wars arise, and I shall be low,

Who ever was ready to arm and go!"—

For he loved the war tramp and the martial array.

"If ever a Knight might revisit this earth—

While the corn stands green on Midsummer-day"—

Said the Clifford—"When troubles and wars have birth,

Thou never shalt fail from Threlkeld's hearth!"

From that hearth where the widows were spinning away.

And so, along Souther Fell-side they press'd—

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day,—

And then they parted—to east and to west—

And Sir Lancelot came and was laid to his rest.

Said the widows there spinning the eve away.

And the Shepherd had power in unwritten lore:

The corn stands green on Midsummer-day:

And although the Knight's coffin his banner hangs o'er,

Sir Lancelot yet can tread this floor;

Said the widows there spinning the eve away.—

Thus gossip'd the widows in Threlkeld Hall,

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day:

When the sound of a footstep was heard to fall,

And an arm'd shadow pass'd over the wall—

Of a Knight with his plume and in martial array.

With a growl the fierce dogs slunk behind the huge chair,

While the corn stood green on that Midsummer-day;

And the widows stopt spinning; and each was aware

Of a tread to the porch, and Sir Lancelot there—

And a stir as of horsemen all riding away.

They turned their dim eyes to the lattice to gaze—

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—

But before their old limbs they could feebly raise,

The horsemen and horses were far on the ways—

From the Hall, where the widows were spinning away.

And far along Souter Fell-side they strode,

While the corn stood green on that Midsummer-day.

And the brave old Knight on his charger rode,

As he wont to ride from his old abode,

With his sword by his side and in martial array.

Like a chief he galloped before and behind—

While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—

To the marshalled ranks he waved, and signed;

And his banner streamed out on the evening wind,

As they rode along Souter Fell-side away.

And to many an eye was revealed the sight,

While the corn stood green that Midsummer-day;

As Sir Lancelot Threlkeld the ancient Knight

With all his horsemen went over the height:

O'er the steep mountain summit went riding away.

And then as the twilight closed over the dell—

Where the corn stood green that Midsummer-day—

Came the farmers and peasants all flocking to tell

How Sir Lancelot's troop had gone over the fell!

And the widows sat listening, and spinning away.

And the widows looked mournfully round the old hall;

And the corn stood green on Midsummer-day;

"He is come at the good Lord Clifford's call!

He is up for the King, with his warriors all!"—

Said the widows there spinning the eve away.

"There is evil to happen, and war is at hand—

Where the corn stands green this Midsummer-day—

Or rebels are plotting to waste the land;

Or he never would come with his armed band"—

Said the widows there spinning the eve away.

"Our old men sleep in the grave. They cease:

While the corn stands green on Midsummer-day—

They rest, though troubles on earth increase;

And soon may Sir Lancelot's soul have peace!"

Sighed the widows while spinning the eve away.

"But this was the Promise the Shepherd-Lord—

When the corn stood green that Midsummer-day—

Gave, parting from Threlkeld's hearth and board,

To the brave old Knight—and he keeps his word!"

Said the widows all putting their spinning away.