No More Learning

A boon! Of that sweet child we make
An orphan for thy father's sake,
Make thou, for ours, a wife. '

XXII.

"I said, 'My steed neighs in the court,
My bark rocks on the brine,
And the warrior's vow I am under now
To free the pilgrim's shrine;
But fetch the ring and fetch the priest
And call that daughter of thine,
And rule she wide from my castle on Nyde
While I am in Palestine. '

XXIII.

"In the dark chambere, if the bride was fair,
Ye wis, I could not see,
But the steed thrice neighed, and the priest fast prayed,
And wedded fast were we.
Her mother smiled upon her bed
As at its side we knelt to wed,
And the bride rose from her knee
And kissed the smile of her mother dead,
Or ever she kissed me.

XXIV.

"My page, my page, what grieves thee so,
That the tears run down thy face? "--
"Alas, alas! mine own sister
Was in thy lady's case:
But _she_ laid down the silks she wore
And followed him she wed before,
Disguised as his true servitor,
To the very battle-place. "

XXV.

And wept the page, but laughed the knight,
A careless laugh laughed he:
"Well done it were for thy sister,
But not for my ladye!
My love, so please you, shall requite
No woman, whether dark or bright,
Unwomaned if she be. "

XXVI.
The page stopped weeping and smiled cold--
"Your wisdom may declare
That womanhood is proved the best
By golden brooch and glossy vest
The mincing ladies wear;
Yet is it proved, and was of old,
Anear as well, I dare to hold,
By truth, or by despair. "

XXVII.

He smiled no more, he wept no more,
But passionate he spake--
"Oh, womanly she prayed in tent,
When none beside did wake!
Oh, womanly she paled in fight,
For one beloved's sake! --
And her little hand, defiled with blood,
Her tender tears of womanhood
Most woman-pure did make! "

XXVIII.

--"Well done it were for thy sister,
Thou tellest well her tale!
But for my lady, she shall pray
I' the kirk of Nydesdale.
Not dread for me but love for me
Shall make my lady pale;
No casque shall hide her woman's tear--
It shall have room to trickle clear
Behind her woman's veil. "

XXIX.

--"But what if she mistook thy mind
And followed thee to strife,
Then kneeling did entreat thy love
As Paynims ask for life? "
--"I would forgive, and evermore
Would love her as my servitor,
But little as my wife.

XXX.

"Look up--there is a small bright cloud
Alone amid the skies!
So high, so pure, and so apart,
A woman's honour lies. "
The page looked up--the cloud was sheen--
A sadder cloud did rush, I ween,
Betwixt it and his eyes.