Ever along the way he goes, With eyes cast down as in despair, And shoulders stooped with weight of woes And lips from which unceasing flows
An agonized prayer. His form is bent; his step is slow; His hands with fasting long are thin; And wheresoe'er his footsteps go,
Men hear his muttered prayer and know He weeps for deadly sin. This monk was once the knightliest Of knights who ever sat in hall:
With wondrous might and beauty blest; And whoso met him lance-in-rest Had need on Christ to call. Men say this monk with hair so hoar,
And eye where grief hath quenched the flame, Once loved a maiden fair and pure, And for she would not wed him swore He‘ d bring her down to Shame.
They say he wooed her long and well; And splendid spoils both eve and morn Of song and tourney won, they tell, He gave her till at last she fell,
Then drave her forth with scorn. The world was cold; her father's door Was barred — they thus the tale repeat — Her name was heard in jousts no more;
And so, one day the river bore And laid her at his feet. Her brow was calm, the sunny hair Lay tangled in the snowy breast,
And from the face all trace of care And sin was cleansed away, and there Shone only utter rest. The old men say that when the wave
That burden brought, then backward fled, He stooped, no sign nor groan he gave, As mourners by an open grave; But fell as one struck dead.
He seemed, when from that swound he woke, A man already touched by Death, As when the stalwart forest oak, Blasted beneath the lightning's stroke
Lives on, yet languisheth. And ever since he tells his beads, And sackcloth lieth next his skin, And nightly his frail body bleeds
With knotted cord that intercedes With Christ for deadly sin. For his own soul he hath no care, By penance purged as if by flame:
Men know that agonized prayer He prays is for the maiden fair Whom he brought down to Shame. And still along the way he goes,
With eyes cast down as in despair, And shoulders stooped with weight of woes, And lips from which forever flows An agonized prayer.
Cookies on Poetry Cove