The Flower and the Chain

[adalger]

I have shamelessly stolenlovingly emulated the rhyme and meter of Tennyson's "The Lady of Shallot."


She sits atop the highest tower,
Cries with every passing hour,
And holds with all her little power
To one thin stem, one wilted flower,
Waiting for the fall of night.
When the daylight passes over
To the darkness, and the cover
Of the shadows brings her lover,
He will set things right.

Her eyes are dim, her features wizened,
Her mind confused by tricks and lies, and
All her recollections poisened
'Til the Sun meets the horizon,
Bringing on the fall of night.
When that orb's traverse is ended
And the eve is full descended,
Sleep comes; broken dreams are mended.
All is set to right.

Sleep is youth, and youth is beauty;
Love is truth, and lover's duty
Must be done, however crudely
Comes the call, however rudely
Sudden is the fall of night.
There he stands to guard her dreaming,
Hold her hand and quell her keening,
Shelter her within well-meaning
Arms, and set her right.

He must fade before the morning,
Taking as his exit warning
Breaking dawn, and leaves her mourning,
Leaving one fresh rose adorning
The bedside where he sat the night.
When she wakes and sees the flower,
Up she takes it to the tower
Where she cries until the hour
All again is right.

====================

Underneath the shining sun,
Long ago, when still undone
Were all the deeds that made him one
With her; when he could still have run,
Before the final fall of night;
When he was young, when he was free,
When he could hear, when he could see,
He made a present, willingly;
She took it as her right.

He fashioned her a silver cord:
A gift to her whom he adored.
She quick returned a loving word,
And with her breathless gaze implored:
Forever be my brilliant knight!
She bound him to her with his chain
Of silver, and, when they had lain
Together, bound him to her pain
As if she had the right.

When he awoke in her arms gripped,
The chain of silver firmly clipped
Upon his neck, his freedom slipped
From him, his life -- his future -- ripped
Away, to be her captive knight.
He knew the fate that he had found,
By his own offer to her bound,
Was to be her most faithful hound,
And granted her the right.

With every passing night he's faded
Ever more, and grown more jaded
By her hunger, never sated,
Never in the least abated,
For her lover, for her knight.
Still he loves her, still he guards,
Still he shelters her and wards
Her as she sleeps, and he affords
Her all the peace he might.