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Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems

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<hr style="width: 65%;" />[Pg 231] <h2>RIDING TOGETHER</h2> <div class="cpoem25"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> FOR many, many days together The wind blew steady from the East; For many days hot grew the weather, About the time of our Lady's Feast. </div> <div class="stanza"> For many days we rode together, Yet met we neither friend nor foe; Hotter and clearer grew the weather, Steadily did the East wind blow. </div> <div class="stanza"> We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather, Clear-cut, with shadows very black, As freely we rode on together With helms unlaced and bridles slack. [Pg 232]</div> <div class="stanza"> And often as we rode together, We, looking down the green-bank'd stream, Saw flowers in the sunny weather, And saw the bubble-making bream. </div> <div class="stanza"> And in the night lay down together, And hung above our heads the rood, Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather, The while the moon did watch the wood. </div> <div class="stanza"> Our spears stood bright and thick together, Straight out the banners stream'd behind, As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather, With faces turn'd towards the wind. </div> <div class="stanza"> Down sank our threescore spears together, As thick we saw the pagans ride; His eager face in the clear fresh weather, Shone out that last time by my side. </div> <div class="stanza"> Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together, It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears, Down rain'd the buds of the dear spring weather, The elm-tree flowers fell like tears. [Pg 233]</div> <div class="stanza"> There, as we roll'd and writhed together, I threw my arms above my head, For close by my side, in the lovely weather, I saw him reel and fall back dead. </div> <div class="stanza"> I and the slayer met together, He waited the death-stroke there in his place, With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather, Gapingly mazed at my madden'd face. </div> <div class="stanza"> Madly I fought as we fought together; In vain: the little Christian band The pagans drown'd, as in stormy weather, The river drowns low-lying land. </div> <div class="stanza"> They bound my blood-stain'd hands together, They bound his corpse to nod by my side: Then on we rode, in the bright March weather, With clash of cymbals did we ride. </div> <div class="stanza"> We ride no more, no more together; My prison-bars are thick and strong, I take no heed of any weather, The sweet Saints grant I live not long. </div> </div></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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