100

The woods are rich in radiant guise,
Where'er by Fortune led, I fare,
And shining glories glad mine eyes,
That no man may with tongue declare.
I wander on in happy wise,
For steepest cliff seems harmless there.
The farther I fared the fairer 'gan rise
Meads bright with bloom, and spice, and pear,
Green-bordered brooks, and river fair, 105
Its banks as thread of finest gold.
Win I at last to a water rare;-
Dear Lord! 'twas lovely to behold.

XII

Far more of bliss glowed in such guise Than I could tell if time I had;

For mortal heart may not suffice

135

For tenth part of that rapture glad.

I thought in truth that Paradise

Lay just beyond those bright banks brade.12
The waters, methought, as bounds arise

Twixt garden and garden, between them made.
Beyond the brook, by slope and shade, 141
Stands the Holy City, beyond the shore.
But the water was deep, I durst not wade,
And ever my longing grew more and more.

XIII

145

150

Mair and mair, and yet much mair
I longed beyond that stream to stand;
For if 'twas fair where I did fare
Far fairer gleamed that farther land.
Stumbling I strove, looked here and there
To find a ford, on every hand;
But of greater perils I grew aware
The longer I searched that shining strand.
And yet, it seemed I must burst the band,
So strong was the call of that distant shore.
When lo! the sight mine eyes next scan-
ned
Stirred my strained spirit more and more.

XIV

A marvel 'gan my ghost confound;

I saw, beyond that merry mere,

155

160

A cliff, from whose clear depths profound
Streamed lights that lit the golden air.
Beneath, a child sate on the ground,
A maid of mien full debonair;
White, shining garments girt her round;-
I knew, I had seen her other-where.
As gold in threads that men may shear, 165
So sheen she shone upon that shore.
The longer I looked upon her there
The surer I knew her, more and more.

All rich in pearls that rare one bright
Drew near the shore beyond the flood;
From here to Greece no gladder wight
Than I, when by the brink she stood.
Nearer than niece or aunt, of right
I found in her my joy and good.
Then low she bowed her figure slight,
Cast by her crown in happy mood,

And as I looked, I understood,
And heard her greet me full of grace.
Dear Lord! who me with life endued
'Twas worth it all to see her face.

XXI

"O Pearl," I cried, "in pearlės dight,
Art thou that pearl that I have plained 13
Much missed by me alone, at night?
What longing have I long sustained

13 Bewailed.

204

229

235

240

1153

1155

Drawn by delight of eye and ear,
My yearning mood to madness grows;
I would be with my dear one there,
Though swift the severing current flows.
Nothing will harm me if on I fare,
Or lame me, methought, by baffling blows;
If I only the plunge in the stream can dare
I will swim the space though the waves oppose,
Or die in the deed. Yet a thought arose 1161
Ere I plunged perverse in that water chill,
That stilled my impatience and brought re-
pose

For I knew it was not my Prince's will.

700

All Anglesey's isles on the left hand he leaves,
And fares o'er the fording hard by the foreland,
Over at Holy-head, till he had journeyed
To Wirral's wilderness, where few are dwelling
Who God or man with good hearts regard.
Fain would he find from men that he met with
News of a Knight in that neighborhood dwelling
Who garbed him in green, or of a green chapel.
All denied him with "nay," saying not in a
lifetime

Wist they ever a wight that was of such huės
Of green.

The Knight rode ways most strange,
The rocky banks between,

And oft his cheer3 doth change,

Ere he that church hath seen.

706

710

drous and deep,

High hills on each hand, with a holt stretching under

Of hoar oaks full huge, a hundred together;
And tangled thickets of thorn and of hazel,
With shaggy robes of rough ragged mosses; 745
Many birds sit unblithely on the bare twigs,
And piteously pipe for pain of the cold.
The rider on Gringolet rideth beneath them
Through mire and marshes, a man all alone, 749
Perturbed in his toil lest to him 'twere forbidden
To share in His service, who, on that same
night,

Was born of a maid, all our sorrows to cure.
Therefore sighing he said: "I beseech Thee, O
Lord,

And Mary, mildest mother so dear,

Some shelter to show me, some spot to hear

O noble worthy king, Henry the ferthe,
In whom the gladde fortune is befalle
The people to govérne here upon erthė,
God hath thee chose, in comfort of us allė;

1 The Praise of Peace (or De Pacis Commendatione, as Gower entitled it) was a poem of welcome to Henry IV., on his accession to the throne in 1399. Gower had been distressed and disappointed by the misgovernment of Richard II.; in this poem he greets the new King, as one who, he trusts, will bring in a better time.

With peace stands every creature in restė,
Withoutė peace there may no life be glad;
Above all other good, peace is the bestė;
Peace hath him-self, whan war is all bestad;2
The peace is safe, the war is ever adrad.
Peace is of alle charitie the keye,

Which hath the life and soule for to weigh.

My liege lord, if that thee list to seche

40

The sooth ensamples, what the war hath wrought,

Thou shalt well hear, of wise mennės speché, 45 That deadly werre tourneth in-to nought.

For if these oldė bokės be well sought,

There might thou see what thing the war hath do

Both of conquest and conqueror alsó.

50

For vain honour, or for the worldės good,
They that whilom the strongė werres made,
Where be they now? Bethink well, in thy mood,
The day is goon, the night is dark and fade;
Her cruelté, which made them thanně glade,
They sorrow now, and yet have naught the
more;

55

The blood is shed, which no man may restore.

2 Beset.