<h2><SPAN name="CANTO_II" id="CANTO_II" />CANTO II</h2>
<h2>ELFINHART</h2>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span>In Canto I. I followed the old rule<br/></span>
<span>We learned from Horace when we went to school,<br/></span>
<span>And took a headlong plunge <i>in medias res</i>,<br/></span>
<span>As Maro did, and blind Mæonides;<br/></span>
<span>And now, still following the ancient mode,<br/></span>
<span>I come to the time-honored "episode,"<br/></span>
<span>Retrace my way some twenty years or more,<br/></span>
<span>And tell you what I should have told before.<br/></span>
<span>It seems an awkward method, but it's art;—<br/></span>
<span>Besides, it brings us back to Elfinhart.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>In those dark days before King Arthur came,<br/></span>
<span>When Britain was laid waste with sword and flame,<br/></span>
<span>When cut-throats lurked behind the blossoming thorn,<br/></span>
<span>And young maids cursed the day when they were born,<br/></span>
<span>A lady, widowed in one hideous night,<br/></span>
<span>Fled over heath and hill, and in her flight<br/></span>
<span>Came to the magic willow-woods that stand<br/></span>
<span>Beside the Murmuring Mere, in Fairyland;<br/></span>
<span>And there, untimely, by the forest-side,<br/></span>
<span>Clasping her infant in her arms, she died.<br/></span>
<span>Yet not all friendless,—for such mortal throes<br/></span>
<span>Pass not unpitied, though no mortal knows;—<br/></span>
<span>The spirits that infest the clearer air<br/></span>
<span>Looked down upon the innocent lady there,<br/></span>
<span>While troops of fairies smoothed her mossy bed<br/></span>
<span>And with sweet balsam pillowed her fair head.<br/></span>
<span>Her dim eyes could not see them, but she guessed<br/></span>
<span>Whose gentle ministrations thus had blessed<br/></span>
<span>Her travail; and when pitying fairies laid<br/></span>
<span>Upon her heart the child,—a blue-eyed maid,—<br/></span>
<span>Ere yet her troubled spirit might depart,<br/></span>
<span>With one last word she named her "Elfinhart."<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>So with new-quickened love the fairy elves<br/></span>
<span>Took the forlorn child-maiden to themselves<br/></span>
<span>And reared her in the wildwood, where no jar<br/></span>
<span>Of alien discord, echoing from afar,<br/></span>
<span>Broke the sweet forest murmur, long years round.<br/></span>
<span>Her ears, attuned to every woodland sound,<br/></span>
<span>Translated to her soul the great world's voice,<br/></span>
<span>And the world-spirit made her heart rejoice.<br/></span>
<span>And love was hers,—perennial, intense,—<br/></span>
<span>The love that wells from joy and innocence<br/></span>
<span>And sanctifies the cloistered heart of youth,—<br/></span>
<span>The love of love, of beauty, and of truth.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>So Elfinhart grew up. Each passing year<br/></span>
<span>Of forest life beside the Murmuring Mere<br/></span>
<span>Enriched tenfold the natural dower of grace<br/></span>
<span>That shone from the pure spirit in her face.<br/></span>
<span>I cannot tell why each revolving season<br/></span>
<span>Enhanced her beauty thus. Some say the reason<br/></span>
<span>Was in the stars; <i>I</i> think those luminaries<br/></span>
<span>Had less to do with it than had the fairies!<br/></span>
<span>The more they found of grace in her, the more<br/></span>
<span>Their silent influence added to her store;<br/></span>
<span>For they were always with her; they and she<br/></span>
<span>Still bore each other loving company.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>And yet one further virtue,—not the least<br/></span>
<span>Of those that make life lovable,—increased<br/></span>
<span>In Elfinhart's sweet nature from her birth<br/></span>
<span>By fairy tutelage; and that was mirth.<br/></span>
<span>For fairy natures are compounded all<br/></span>
<span>Of whimsies and of freaks fantastical,<br/></span>
<span>And what the best of fairies loves the best<br/></span>
<span>(Except pure kindness) is an artless jest.<br/></span>
<span>And so wise men have argued, on the whole,<br/></span>
<span>That the misguided creatures have no soul;<br/></span>
<span>But as for me, if the bright fairy elf<br/></span>
<span>Has none, I'll get along without, myself!<br/></span>
<span>These fairies laughed and danced and sang sweet songs,<br/></span>
<span>And did all else that to their craft belongs,—<br/></span>
<span>All tricks and pranks of whole-souled jollity<br/></span>
<span>That make life merry 'neath the greenwood tree.<br/></span>
<span>The youngest of them childishly beguiled<br/></span>
<span>The time when Elfinhart was still a child;<br/></span>
<span>They pinched her fingers, and they pulled her ears,<br/></span>
<span>Or sometimes, when her blue eyes dreamed of tears,<br/></span>
<span>Half smothered her with showers of four-leafed clover,—<br/></span>
<span>Then fled for refuge to some sweet-fern cover;<br/></span>
<span>But she pursued them through their tangled lair<br/></span>
<span>And caught them, and put fire-flies in their hair;<br/></span>
<span>And then they all joined hands, and round and round<br/></span>
<span>They danced a morris on the moonlit ground.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>The years went by, and Elfinhart outgrew<br/></span>
<span>The madcap antics of the younger crew,<br/></span>
<span>(For fairies age but slowly: don't forget<br/></span>
<span>That at two hundred they are children yet!)<br/></span>
<span>But still she frolicked with them, though scarce <i>of</i> them,<br/></span>
<span>And learned each year more tenderly to love them.<br/></span>
<span>But most of all she loved with all her heart<br/></span>
<span>On quiet summer nights to walk apart<br/></span>
<span>And hold close converse with the fairies' queen,—<br/></span>
<span>A radiant maiden princess who had seen<br/></span>
<span>Some twenty centuries of revolving suns<br/></span>
<span>Pass over Fairyland,—all golden ones!<br/></span>
<span>Sometimes they sat still in the mild moon's light,<br/></span>
<span>Where chestnut blooms made sweet the breath of night,<br/></span>
<span>And talked of the great world beyond the wood,—<br/></span>
<span>Of death, or sin, or sorrow, understood<br/></span>
<span>Of neither,—till the twinkling stars were gone,<br/></span>
<span>And bustling Chanticleer proclaimed the dawn.<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart grew wise in fairy learning;<br/></span>
<span>But by degrees a half unconscious yearning<br/></span>
<span>For humankind stirred in her gentle heart,<br/></span>
<span>And woke a deep desire to bear her part<br/></span>
<span>Of love and sorrow in the larger life<br/></span>
<span>As sister, helper,—nay, perhaps as wife;—<br/></span>
<span>For such vague instincts, after all, are human,<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart herself was but a woman.<br/></span>
<span>And yet, for all this new desire, I doubt<br/></span>
<span>If Elfinhart would e'er have spoken out,<br/></span>
<span>And told the fairies of her wish to leave them,<br/></span>
<span>(A wish her conscious heart well knew would grieve them),<br/></span>
<span>If in the ripening of her silent thought<br/></span>
<span>A still voice had not whispered that she ought<br/></span>
<span>To leave that world of love and mirth and beauty,<br/></span>
<span>To share man's burden in this world of duty.<br/></span>
<span>(There's anticlimax for you! Most provoking,<br/></span>
<span>Just when you thought that I was only joking,<br/></span>
<span>Or idly fingering the poet's laurel,<br/></span>
<span>To find my story threatens to be moral!<br/></span>
<span>But as for morals, though in verse we scout them,<br/></span>
<span>In life we somehow can't get on without them;<br/></span>
<span>So if I don't insert a moral distich<br/></span>
<span>Once in a while, I can't be realistic;—<br/></span>
<span>And in this tale, I solemnly aver,<br/></span>
<span>My one wish is to tell things as they were!<br/></span>
<span>But not <i>all</i> things; time flies, and art is long,<br/></span>
<span>And I must hurry onward with my song.)<br/></span>
<span>How Elfinhart at last told what she wanted,<br/></span>
<span>And what the fairies said, please take for granted.<br/></span>
<span>She prayed, they yielded; Elfinhart full loth<br/></span>
<span>To leave, as they to let her go, but both<br/></span>
<span>Agreeing that this bitter thing must be;<br/></span>
<span>For they were fairies, and a mortal she.<br/></span>
<span>But ere they yielded, they made imposition<br/></span>
<span>Of what then seemed to her a light condition.<br/></span>
<span>'Twas done in kindness, be it understood,<br/></span>
<span>With fairy foresight for the maiden's good.<br/></span>
<span>The elf-queen spoke for all: "Dear Elfinhart,<br/></span>
<span>We bind you to one promise ere we part.<br/></span>
<span>We fear naught from men's malice; hate and wrath<br/></span>
<span>And every evil thing will shun your path,<br/></span>
<span>And sunshine will go with you when you move;<br/></span>
<span>The only danger that we dread is love.<br/></span>
<span>If in the after days, when suitors woo you,<br/></span>
<span>Your heart makes choice of one, as dearest to you,<br/></span>
<span>Before you put your hand in his and own<br/></span>
<span>The sacred trust reserved for him alone,<br/></span>
<span>Let us make trial of him, and approve<br/></span>
<span>His virtue, and his manhood, and his love.<br/></span>
<span>Send him to us; and if he bears the test,<br/></span>
<span>And if we find him worthy to be blest<br/></span>
<span>With love like yours, be sure we will befriend him;<br/></span>
<span>And may a life-long happiness attend him!<br/></span>
<span>But if he prove a traitor, or faint-hearted,<br/></span>
<span>Or if his love and he are lightly parted,<br/></span>
<span>In the deep willow-woods he shall remain,<br/></span>
<span>And never look upon your face again!"<br/></span>
<span>The maiden, fancy-free, was well content,<br/></span>
<span>And with light laughter gave her full consent;<br/></span>
<span>For when maids think of love (as maidens do)<br/></span>
<span>It seems a far-off thing; and well she knew<br/></span>
<span>Her lover, if she loved, would be both brave and true!<br/></span>
<span>Not long thereafter came an errant band<br/></span>
<span>Riding along the edge of Fairyland,—<br/></span>
<span>Stout men-at-arms, without reproach or spot,<br/></span>
<span>And in the lead the bold Sir Launcelot.<br/></span>
<span>He, riding on ahead, silent, alone,<br/></span>
<span>Was stopped by a beseeching ancient crone<br/></span>
<span>Who hobbled to his side, as if in pain,<br/></span>
<span>And clutched with palsied fingers at his rein.<br/></span>
<span>And there behind her, from the leafage green,<br/></span>
<span>The sweetest eyes his eyes had ever seen<br/></span>
<span>Were gazing at him with wide wonderment,<br/></span>
<span>Nor bold nor fearful; innocence unshent<br/></span>
<span>Shone from their blue depths, and old dreams awoke<br/></span>
<span>In Launcelot's breast, while thus the beldame spoke:<br/></span>
<span>"A boon, a boon, Sir Launcelot of the Lake!<br/></span>
<span>I Pray you of your courtesy to take<br/></span>
<span>This damsel to the King. Her enemies<br/></span>
<span>Have spoiled her of her birthright, and she flees<br/></span>
<span>An innocent outcast from her wasted lands,<br/></span>
<span>To lay her life and fortune in his hands."<br/></span>
<span>She spoke, and vanished in the woodland shade.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>Then Launcelot, leaning over helped the maid<br/></span>
<span>To mount behind and at an easy trot<br/></span>
<span>They and the troop rode on to Camelot.<br/></span>
<span>He asked no questions for some fairy spell<br/></span>
<span>Made light his heart, and told him all was well;<br/></span>
<span>And as these two rode through the land together,<br/></span>
<span>By dappled greenwood shade and sunlit heather,<br/></span>
<span>Her soft voice in his ears, the innocent charm<br/></span>
<span>Of her light, steady touch upon his arm,<br/></span>
<span>Wrought magic in his soul. That day, I ween,<br/></span>
<span>Sir Launcelot well-nigh forgot his queen.<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart (you knew those eyes were hers!)<br/></span>
<span>Laughed with the silvery jingle of his spurs,<br/></span>
<span>And from her heart the new world's rapture drove<br/></span>
<span>All thought of Fairyland—excepting love.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>And so to high-towered Camelot they came,<br/></span>
<span>The golden city,—now a shadowy name;<br/></span>
<span>For over heath-clad hills the wild-winds blow<br/></span>
<span>Where Arthur's halls, a thousand years ago<br/></span>
<span>Bright with all far-fetched gems of curious art,<br/></span>
<span>Shone brighter with the eyes of Elfinhart.<br/></span>
<span>She came to Camelot; the king receives her;<br/></span>
<span>And there for five glad years my story leaves her.<br/></span>
<span>Five glad years, and this "episode" is done,<br/></span>
<span>And we are back again at Canto I.<br/></span>
<span>I write of merry jest and greenwood shade,<br/></span>
<span>But tales of chivalry are not my trade;<br/></span>
<span>So if you wish to read that five years' story<br/></span>
<span>Of lady-love, romance, and martial glory,—<br/></span>
<span>The mighty feats of arms that Gawayne did,—<br/></span>
<span>The ever ripening love that Gawayne hid<br/></span>
<span>Five long years in his breast, biding his time,—<br/></span>
<span>Go seek it in some abler poet's rime.<br/></span>
<span>My tale begins with the young knight's brave soul<br/></span>
<span>All Elfinhart's. She thinks herself heart-whole.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>But at that Christmas feast, in Arthur's hall,<br/></span>
<span>With night's soft mantle folded over all,<br/></span>
<span>The magic influence of the evening tide<br/></span>
<span>Stole on their two hearts beating side by side.<br/></span>
<span>And Gawayne talked of troubles long ago,<br/></span>
<span>When each man's neighbor was his dearest foe,<br/></span>
<span>And of the trials he himself had passed,<br/></span>
<span>And the high purpose that from first to last<br/></span>
<span>Had been his stay and spur, he scarce knew how,<br/></span>
<span>Since on Excalibur he took the vow.<br/></span>
<span>He told of his own hopes for future days,<br/></span>
<span>And how he wrought and fought not for men's praise,<br/></span>
<span>(Though like all good men Gawayne held that dear),<br/></span>
<span>Yet trusting, when men laid him on his bier,<br/></span>
<span>They might remember, as they gathered round it,<br/></span>
<span>"He left this good world better than he found it."<br/></span>
<span>He talked as true men seldom talk, unless<br/></span>
<span>Swayed utterly by some pure passion's stress,<br/></span>
<span>And ever gently, though with heart on fire,<br/></span>
<span>Still hovered nearer to his soul's desire.<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart in gravest silence listened,<br/></span>
<span>But her sweet heart beat high, her blue eyes glistened;<br/></span>
<span>For as he bared his soul to her she dreamed<br/></span>
<span>A day-dream strange and new, wherein it seemed<br/></span>
<span>That in that soul's clear depth she saw her own,<br/></span>
<span>And his most secret thought (till then unknown)<br/></span>
<span>Seemed hers eternally. He spoke of death,<br/></span>
<span>And then her heart shrank, and she drew deep breath.<br/></span>
<span>Suddenly, ere she understood at all<br/></span>
<span>What new life dawned before her, came the call<br/></span>
<span>Of fairy horns; and so the Green Knight burst<br/></span>
<span>Upon the scene, as told in Canto First.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>One jarring note, the tuneful chords among,<br/></span>
<span>May make mad discord of the sweetest song.<br/></span>
<span>E'en so with dissonant clamor through the breast<br/></span>
<span>Of Gawayne rang the Green Knight's merry jest;<br/></span>
<span>But what wild meaning must it not impart<br/></span>
<span>To the vague fears of gentle Elfinhart?<br/></span>
<span>For she had heard in the first trumpet-blast<br/></span>
<span>A signal to her from the far-gone past;<br/></span>
<span>And now, of all the strange things that had been,<br/></span>
<span>Her half forgotten compact with the queen<br/></span>
<span>Flushed through her memory, and a swift thought came<br/></span>
<span>Like sudden fear, a thought without a name,<br/></span>
<span>An unvoiced question and a blind alarm;<br/></span>
<span>And in sheer helplessness she reached an arm<br/></span>
<span>Toward Gawayne scarcely knowing what she would;<br/></span>
<span>Her eyes beheld him, and she understood.<br/></span>
<span>And is it Gawayne? He? Yes, Elfinhart,<br/></span>
<span>The hour has come, and you must play your part.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<hr style="width: 45%;" /></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>So now it's all explained; and I intend<br/></span>
<span>To go straight onward to the story's end.<br/></span>
<span>Sir Gawayne had cut off the Green Knight's head,<br/></span>
<span>And Arthur and his court had gone to bed;<br/></span>
<span>In the great hall the dying embers shone<br/></span>
<span>With a faint ghostly gleam, and there, alone,<br/></span>
<span>While all the rest of Camelot was sleeping,<br/></span>
<span>In the dark alcove Elfinhart lay weeping.<br/></span>
<span>But as she lay there, all about her head<br/></span>
<span>There fell a checkered beam of moonlight, shed<br/></span>
<span>Through the barred casement; and she faintly stirred,<br/></span>
<span>For in her troubled soul it seemed she heard<br/></span>
<span>Vague music from some region far away!<br/></span>
<span>She raised her head and, turning where she lay,<br/></span>
<span>Saw in the silver moonlight the serene<br/></span>
<span>And tranquil beauty of the fairy queen!<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>"We sent before you called us, Elfinhart,<br/></span>
<span>For love lent keener magic to our art,<br/></span>
<span>And warned us of the thoughts that in your breast<br/></span>
<span>Awoke new rapture, trembling unconfessed."<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart moved closer to her knees<br/></span>
<span>And hid her face in the white draperies<br/></span>
<span>That veiled the fairy form, till, nestling there,<br/></span>
<span>Her heart recovered from that blank despair,<br/></span>
<span>And whispered her that whatsoe'er befell<br/></span>
<span>Love ruled the world, and all would yet be well.<br/></span>
<span>And the good fairy stroked the maiden's head<br/></span>
<span>And kissed her tear-starred eyes, and smiling said:<br/></span>
<span>"Fie on you women's hearts! Consistency<br/></span>
<span>Hides her shamed head where mortal women be!<br/></span>
<span>True love breeds faith and trust, it makes hearts strong;<br/></span>
<span>The heart's anointed king can do no wrong!<br/></span>
<span>And yet you weep as if you feared to prove him;—<br/></span>
<span>Upon my word, I don't believe you love him!"<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart replied: "Laugh if you will,<br/></span>
<span>My queen, but let me be a woman still.<br/></span>
<span>You fairies love where love is wise and just;<br/></span>
<span>We mortal women love because we must:<br/></span>
<span>And if I feared to prove him, I confess<br/></span>
<span>I fear I still must love him none the less."<br/></span>
<span>She paused, for once again her eyes grew dim:<br/></span>
<span>"Think you I love his virtues? I love him!<br/></span>
<span>But yet you judged me wrongly, for believe me,<br/></span>
<span>(And then laugh once again, and so forgive me),<br/></span>
<span>If at the first I feared what you might do,<br/></span>
<span>My doubts were not of Gawayne, but of you!"<br/></span>
<span>And so both laughed, and for a little space<br/></span>
<span>Folded each other in a glad embrace;<br/></span>
<span>(For fairies, bathed the whole year round in bliss,<br/></span>
<span>May yet be gladdened by a fair maid's kiss);<br/></span>
<span>And Elfinhart spoke on: "Do what you will,<br/></span>
<span>I trust you with my all, and fear no ill.<br/></span>
<span>But oh, my friend, to wait the long, long year,—<br/></span>
<span>To keep my heart in silence, not to hear<br/></span>
<span>The words my whole soul hungers for, nor say<br/></span>
<span>One syllable to brighten his dark day!<br/></span>
<span>Must it be so, my queen? And how shall I<br/></span>
<span>School eyes and lips to act this year-long lie?<br/></span>
<span>From the dear teacher-guardian of my youth<br/></span>
<span>The only ways I learned were ways of truth!<br/></span>
<span>I tried my skill this night, and learned to know<br/></span>
<span>That there are deeps below the deeps of woe;<br/></span>
<span>Hearts may be bruised and broken, yet still live;—<br/></span>
<span>The wounds that kill us are the wounds we give!"<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span>And so these two talked on, until the night<br/></span>
<span>Began to shiver with the gray dawn's light,<br/></span>
<span>And in the deep-dyed casement they might see<br/></span>
<span>New life flush through old dreams of chivalry.<br/></span>
<span>And then they parted. What the queen had said<br/></span>
<span>I know not, but the lady, comforted,<br/></span>
<span>Bade farewell with calm voice and tranquil eyes,<br/></span>
<span>And saw with new-born strength the new sun rise.<br/></span>
<span>Perhaps in Fairyland there chanced to be<br/></span>
<span>For them that grieve some sovereign alchemy<br/></span>
<span>To turn the worst to best, and the good queen<br/></span>
<span>Applied this soothing balm. Such things have been;<br/></span>
<span>But yet I doubt if any fairy art<br/></span>
<span>Was needed in the case of Elfinhart;<br/></span>
<span>The medicine that charmed away her dole<br/></span>
<span>Nature had planted in her own sweet soul.<br/></span>
<span>Of all sure things, this thing I'm surest of,—<br/></span>
<span>That the best cure for love's own ills is love.<br/></span></div>
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