Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Sir Hugh the Palmer by Henry John Newbolt, Sir
Public domain poetry and public domain stories from the literary greats of yesteryear.
Custom Search
Main Menu

Home

Latest Poetry

Latest Authors

Authors Surname

Authors First Name

Poetry Title

Poetry First Lines

Latest Stories

Stories Title

Top Authors

Top Poetry


Top Stories Etc.

Search

Contact Us

Useless Information!!

Store



Top Sites, Click here to vote for our site

Sponsored Links

Read, Rate, Comment on or Submit your poetry

Sir Hugh the Palmer

    By Henry John Newbolt, Sir



        I

        He kneeled among a waste of sands
            Before the Mother-Maid,
        But on the far green forest-lands
            His steadfast eyes were stayed,
        And like a knight of stone his hands
            He straightened while he prayed.

        "Lady, beyond all women fair,
            Beyond all saints benign,
        Whose living heart through life I bear
            In mystery divine,
        Hear thou and grant me this my prayer,
            Or grant no prayer of mine.

        "The fever of my spirit's pain
            Heal thou with heavenly scorn;
        The dust that but of dust is fain
            Leave thou in dust forlorn;
        Yea! bury love to rise again
            Meet for eternal morn.

        "So by thy grace my inward eyes
            Thy beauty still shall see,
        And while our life in shadow lies
            High dawn shall image thee,
        Till with thy soul in Paradise
            Thy servant's soul shall be."

        Before the immortal Mother-Maid
            Low on the sands he kneeled;
        But even while the words he prayed
            His lips to patience sealed,
        Joy in his eyes a radiance made
            Like stars in dusk revealed.


        II

        It was an idle company--
            Ladies and lordings fine--
        Idly under the wild-wood tree
            Their laughter ran like wine.
        Yet as they laughed a voice they heard--
            A voice where none was seen,--
        Singing blithe as a hidden bird
            Among the forest green.

        "Mark ye, mark ye, a lonely knight
            Riding the green forest:
        Pardì! for one so poorly dight
            He lifts a haughty crest!

        Azure and white is all his wear,
            He hath no gold, I trow!
        Wanderer, thou in the wild-wood there,
            Tell us why sing ye so!"

        "Noble ladies and lordings gay,
            God have you all in guard:
        Since ye are pleased with me to play,
            My riddle it is not hard.
        I sing because, of all that ride,
            I am the least of worth:
        I sing because, to match my pride,
            Never was pride on earth.

        "But, an ye ask what that may mean,
            Thus do I answer then:
        I bear with me the heart of a Queen--
            I that am least of men:--
        I bear her heart till the end of all,
            Yea! by her own command
        I bear the heart of a Queen royal
            Unto the Holy Land."

        Humbly there his crest he bent,--
            Azure it waved and white,--
        Haughtily there he turned and went
            Singing, out of their sight.
        Long, long but his voice they heard,--
            A voice where none was seen,--
        Singing blithe as a hidden bird,
            Among the forest green.



Extra Info:



Printable Page

Add Your Thoughts on this poem.



This page viewed 299 times.
Sponsored Links


Your Shops - Affordable Ecommerce stores and cheaper goods for customers - No listing fees!



Our Sites