Volume Ii Part 18 (1/2)

'Not we for thirst of blood appeal To sword and slaughter curst; We have G.o.d's blessing on our steel, Do we our pleading first.'

XIX

Count Louis, soul of chivalry, Put trust in plighted word; By starlight on the broad brown lea, To bar the strife he spurred.

XX

Across his breast a crimson spot, That in a quiver glowed, The ruddy crested camp-fires shot, As he to darkness rode.

XXI

He rode while omens called, beware Old Kraken's pledge of faith!

A smile and waving hand in air, And outward flew the wraith.

XXII

Before pale morn had mixed with gold, His army roared, and chilled, As men who have a woe foretold, And see it red fulfilled.

XXIII

Away and to his young wife speed, And say that Honour's dead!

Another word she will not need To bow a widow's head.

XXIV

Old Kraken roped his white moustache Right, left, for savage glee: - To swing him in his soldier's sash Were kind for such as he!

XXV

Old Kraken's look hard Winter wears When sweeps the wild snow-blast: He had the hug of Arctic bears For captives he held fast.

2--I

Archd.u.c.h.ess Anne sat carved in frost, Shut off from priest and spouse.

Her lips were locked, her arms were crossed, Her eyes were in her brows.

II

One hand enclosed a paper scroll, Held as a strangled asp.

So may we see the woman's soul In her dire tempter's grasp.

III

Along that scroll Count Louis' doom Throbbed till the letters flamed.

She saw him in his scornful bloom, She saw him chained and shamed.

IV

Around that scroll Count Louis' fate Was acted to her stare, And hate in love and love in hate Fought fell to smite or spare.