BALLADS 
 
 AND 
 
 CAROLS 
 
 j* 
 
 R. L. Gales
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 t-j-.J , -It i
 
 BALLADS fc? CAROLS 
 
 BY 
 
 R. L. GALES
 
 BALLADS & CAROLS 
 
 BY 
 R. L. GALES 
 
 LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, 
 HAMILTON, KENT & CO. LTD.
 
 All rights reserved, 1916 
 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHAU,, HAMPTON 
 KENT & Co. LTD.
 
 TO 
 MARGOT ASQUITH 
 
 751844
 
 The Author gratefully acknowledges his indebted- 
 ness to the Editors of " The British Review," " The 
 Nation," " The Vineyard," " The Daily News," 
 and " The Westminster Gazette," for permission 
 to reprint the following poems.
 
 PAGE 
 
 9 
 THE GOOD KNIGHT AND THE ORPHAN 
 
 MAID 20 
 
 THE DEATH OF KING RICHARD THE 
 
 SECOND 23 
 
 A BALLAD OF DICK WHITTINGTON 25 
 
 THE DOLEFUL DITTY OF CARDINAL LA 
 
 BALUE 31 
 
 BELLA ROSA 33 
 
 THE PRINCE'S LULLABY 34 
 
 PATIENCE 35 
 
 AS GHOSTS MAY WALK 36 
 
 THE FAIRY PIEWOMAN 37 
 
 " GAY, GAY, UPON THE QUAY " 39 
 
 THE SHIP OF ANGELS 41 
 
 A CHRISTMAS CAROL 42 
 
 A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS RHYME 43 
 
 THE CREATURES' NOWEL 46 
 
 THE EPIPHANY COCK 48 
 
 A KING-TIDE CAROL 5! 
 
 7
 
 Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MARY MALHEUREUSE 54 
 
 THE PASCHAL CANDLE 56 
 
 THE REFUGE 58 
 
 IN LACRIMARUM VALLE 60 
 
 TO WILLIAM II 61 
 
 DIR^E FACIES 62 
 
 IN THE BALKANS 63 
 
 THE DEVIL'S DAY 65 
 
 DARK BEFORE DAWN 67 
 
 DAYBREAK 69
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE ACE 
 OF SPADES 
 
 A POOR wight sold his soul to the Devil, 
 And this was the covenant made, 
 He should spend his life in card-playing 
 And win where'er he played, 
 And ever should hold in sign thereof 
 The great Black Ace, the Spade. 
 
 He played and won, he got great wealth, 
 
 He ne'er was sad or sick, 
 
 He built his nest and feathered it 
 
 With feathers soft and thick 
 
 As a goose-down bed in a merchant's house 
 
 In the cold of Reikjavik. 
 
 He played and won, he played and won, 
 
 His winnings were untold, 
 
 All day long at the card-table 
 
 He sat and gathered gold, 
 
 He carried it away in bags 
 
 More than his hands could hold.
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 The neighbours that called their souls their own 
 
 They sat with him and played, 
 
 They turned up the trump, Heart, Diamond, 
 
 Club, 
 
 And it on the table laid, 
 
 But that poor wight that was sold to the Devil 
 Turned ever the great Black Spade. 
 
 The Spade that told him of his doom 
 
 Became to him pain and grief, 
 
 To have turned up once the Knave of Diamonds 
 
 Would have brought him huge relief, 
 
 The Queen of Hearts in her honeysuckle bower 
 
 Or the Club like a shamrock leaf. 
 
 He rued him bitterly of his bargain, 
 
 And fear upon him fell 
 
 Of falling asleep in his big four-poster 
 
 And waking next morning in Hell ; 
 
 " I will seek for a priest or a wise woman," 
 
 He said, " to break the spell." 
 
 This poor wight then set forth on his travels 
 
 His last farewells all said, 
 
 10
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 And up and down the world he wandered 
 And ever at cards he played, 
 And ever he won and ever he held 
 The fated great Black Spade. 
 
 He played and won in every tavern 
 
 On high roads far from home, 
 
 He played with hermits, palmers, pilgrims, 
 
 Wherever he did roam, 
 
 He played tresette with the Holy Father 
 
 Beneath St. Peter's Dome. 
 
 He played with the Squire and his good lady 
 
 That was the joy of his life, 
 
 " Will you waddle, waddle, waddle ? " the old 
 
 Squire said 
 
 As he sat and played with his wife ; 
 He drank gin-and-water, he waddled and won 
 With a hand where spades were rife. 
 
 He played with the farmers on market-day 
 
 That were by the great storm stayed, 
 
 They had sold their wheat for a king's ransom, 
 
 And there in the inn they played ; 
 
 They played from dinner until midnight 
 
 And he won with the great Black Spade. 
 
 II
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 They played from midnight till the midday clock 
 
 In the sun was a golden flame, 
 
 The farmers played, they lost and won, 
 
 They played and thought no shame, 
 
 They took their winnings, they paid their loss, 
 
 For courtesy of the game. 
 
 But that poor wight that with them sat 
 
 Each rubber and game did win, 
 
 He paid the score for the old brown brandy 
 
 And the port from the mellowest bin ; 
 
 Each pocket and pouch were stuffed with gold 
 
 As he fared forth from the inn. 
 
 He played with gipsies and travelling tinkers, 
 
 At fairs and wakes he played, 
 
 He played with witches and wise women 
 
 And wizards who saw dismayed 
 
 They had no talisman or token 
 
 Against the great Black Spade. 
 
 He sat and played with the old sea-captains 
 
 And heard their tales of the seas, 
 
 He dined with them in a parlour at Bristol 
 
 On a whale's tail and green peas. 
 
 They played, and with the Ace of Spades 
 
 He beat them at his ease. 
 
 12
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 He played with bandits of the Abruzzi 
 
 In their deep mountain den, 
 
 They played for gold and cut-throat plunder 
 
 And he won again and again, 
 
 Till they signed themselves and muttered their 
 
 prayers 
 Those wild, fierce brigand-men. 
 
 " Graziosissimo Padrone," 
 
 The bandit captain said, 
 
 " I pay my debt, but I play no longer, 
 
 For, my faith, I am afraid ; 
 
 To pay my debt I am right willing, 
 
 But I fear the great Black Spade." 
 
 In Seville, Cadiz, and Las Palmas 
 
 Hogsheads of sherry and sack, 
 
 Olives, oranges, Spanish onions, 
 
 He won to store and stack. 
 
 (Had they been the stakes he would have won 
 
 The signs of the Zodiac.) 
 
 To play with him great Spanish ladies 
 Stepped down from their high disdain, 
 They staked their fans and their mantillas, 
 Their lace, their pearls did he gain, 
 
 13
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 The daughter of Don Pedro y Pablo, 
 And the Infanta of Spain. 
 
 His way to Fez in Mogador 
 
 Across the desert he made, 
 
 There as with Christian men in Seville 
 
 With the Infidels he played, 
 
 But they no more than the Christian men 
 
 Could withstand the great Black Spade. 
 
 '^ 
 
 He played upon the Downs at Epsom 
 
 With players that there do meet, 
 
 He played with tricksters and card-sharpers 
 
 But him they could not cheat, 
 
 The thimble-riggers and horse-dealers 
 
 From the Black Spade did retreat. 
 
 He played with the vintner and the attorney 
 
 That were like body and soul, 
 
 And with their old crony, the notary-public 
 
 That played whether sick or whole, 
 
 He beat Robioglio, he beat Richietti, 
 
 He beat old Rigmarole. 
 
 He played in Provence with Fed6ri Mistral 
 By a wine-cask in the shade,
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 The cat and the dog in the poet's house 
 Watched breathless as they played ; 
 " Lagadigadou," said that felibre, 
 " I salute the great Black Spade." 
 
 The tetes and pips, the pips and tetes, 
 
 They won for him renown, 
 
 Men stood agape to see him play 
 
 With courtier or with clown, 
 
 They sent for him to play at the castle 
 
 When he came to a town. 
 
 He played with the rich merchant's daughters, 
 
 With Gudula in her tower, 
 
 With Velleda in the mystic shade 
 
 Of her enchanted bower, 
 
 With Sister Lodola in the garden 
 
 When the sweet peas were in flower. 
 
 And then all up and down the land 
 
 With maidens fair he played, 
 
 With princess and lady of high degree, 
 
 With goose-girl and milkmaid, 
 
 But they no more than Pope or poacher 
 
 Could wrest from him the Spade. 
 
 15
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 He played with the Grand Turk for his .urban, 
 
 He played with the Dey of Algiers, 
 
 He played with pirates and sea-rovers, 
 
 Corsairs and buccaneers, 
 
 He played by land, he played by water, 
 
 Thro' the two hemispheres. 
 
 The days he spent at the card-table, 
 
 Good folk, I tell you true, 
 
 Sped fleeter than the dogs that run 
 
 For the Cup of Waterloo, 
 
 But when he stayed from the card-playing 
 
 Bitterly he did rue. 
 
 * 
 
 There was an old woman who lived in a tower 
 
 Alone with a little maid, 
 
 High in their tower, in their high tower, 
 
 For ever at cards they played ; 
 
 This poor wight came and joined their game, 
 
 But still he won with the Spade. 
 
 With all the town below them far, 
 
 In their high tower of stone, 
 
 Day after day, year after year, 
 
 They had played there all alone ; 
 
 They had played ecarte, euchre, b6zique, 
 
 Cribbage, piquet, Pope Joan. 
 
 16
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 Hour after hour, day after day, 
 
 They played as in a trance, 
 
 Year out, year in, the falling cards 
 
 Whirled like the snowflakes' dance, 
 
 They changed and changed, they changed and 
 
 changed 
 With all the changes of chance. 
 
 Below in the city men fought in the street 
 
 And died at the barricade, 
 
 And kings were crowned and brides brought 
 
 home, 
 
 As now three, not two, they played, 
 And that poor wight that was sold to the Devil 
 Won still with the great Black Spade. 
 
 The twenty-four bells in the belfry hung 
 
 They filled the air with chimes, 
 
 That seemed to come from a world of shadows 
 
 Thro' happy or troubled times, 
 
 As they sat and played at games that changed 
 
 And came and went like rhymes. 
 
 
 
 Despairing he turned from that tower, 
 He bore upon his back 
 His winnings taken from that old woman, 
 
 B 17
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 Each gew-gaw and knick-knack, 
 Sugar-nippers, grape-scissors, asparagus-tongs, 
 All in a pedlar's pack. 
 
 As burdened he went thro' the crowded streets 
 
 To himself he murmured and said, 
 
 " What sibyl or saint can lift the load 
 
 That is upon me laid ? 
 
 Who will deliver me from the curse 
 
 Of the Ace, the great Black Spade ? " 
 
 To a good cur6 he told his tale 
 
 Before the Easter Feast, 
 
 That was wont to play cards with a poor leper, 
 
 The last of God's creatures and least, 
 
 To play cards with a leper whose face was half 
 
 eaten, 
 That charitable priest. 
 
 The leper was full of his foul disease, 
 
 His body each day did rot, 
 
 Men hid as it were their faces from him 
 
 And they esteemed him not, 
 
 But as he played with that good priest 
 
 His malady he forgot. 
 
 18
 
 The Ballad of the Ace of Spades 
 
 The priest, the leper, the Devil's thrall, 
 
 They sat together and played, 
 
 But as the cards fell on the table 
 
 The spectre at last was laid, 
 
 The spell was broken it was the priest 
 
 That held the great Black Spade. 
 
 With joy they rendered thanks to God 
 
 And Mary undefiled, 
 
 The leper rapt out of himself 
 
 Was of his care beguiled, 
 
 When, lo ! his flesh became again 
 
 As the flesh of a little child. 
 
 The Devil's thrall, now Christ's freeman, 
 For that the spell was broke, 
 Gave to the good priest all the winnings 
 He had gained beneath that yoke, 
 That he might build a lazar-house 
 
 For all poor smitten folk. 
 
 i 
 
 The Devil came then to claim his prey, 
 
 His debt due to be paid, 
 
 He saw the leper all white and ruddy, 
 
 He turned and shrank afraid, 
 
 And the good priest pinned to his tucked-in tail 
 
 The Ace, the great Black Spade. 
 
 '9 

 
 THE GOOD KNIGHT AND 
 THE ORPHAN MAID 
 
 (A Ballad of the Moyen Age) 
 
 kVEET maid, where may thy home 
 
 be?" 
 " Fair sir, I roam in misery." 
 
 " Where may thy good father be ? " 
 " 'Neath the seas of Brittany." 
 
 " Where may thy dear mother be ? " 
 " Withered by a witch was she." 
 
 " Where may thy bold brother be ? " 
 " In the Turk's captivity." 
 
 " Where may thy young sister be ? " 
 " On London Bridge in beggary." 
 
 " Where may thy grandfather be ? " 
 " He rows in the King's galley." 
 
 " Where may thy grandmother be ? " 
 " She was burned for Lollardy." 
 20
 
 The Good Knight and Orphan Maid 
 
 " Where may thy true uncle be ? " 
 " Gibbeted in chains is he." 
 
 " Where may thy aunt Margot be ? " 
 " Fast in Bedlam hostelry." 
 
 " Where may the ballad-maker be ? " 
 " On the high road in thievery." 
 
 " Where may La Soeur Denise be ? " 
 " They walled her up for apostasy." 
 
 " Where may the tall Jacquot be ? " 
 " Jacquot died in the Jacquerie." 
 
 " Where may Marthe, thy playmate, be ? " 
 " At the wars in harlotry." 
 
 " Where may little Pierre be ? " 
 " At La Vraye Croix thro' charity." 
 
 " Where may his baby-sister be ? " 
 " She pined in the cold o' February." 
 
 " Where may thy kind cousin be ? " 
 " He is sick of leprosy." 
 
 21
 
 The Good Knight and Orphan Maid 
 
 " Where may thy stepmother be ? " 
 " In the deep of Purgatory." 
 
 " Sweet maid, tell where thou wouldst be ? " 
 " Fair sir, in thy company." 
 
 (They ride off together.) 
 
 22
 
 THE DEATH OF KING 
 RICHARD THE SECOND 
 
 THE vane upon the turret 'when King 
 Richard woke 
 Glittered in the morning ' as his dooms- 
 day broke ; 
 Of fights and feasts and kisses, ' field and hall 
 
 and bower, 
 
 The lark sang to King Richard ' in his prison 
 tower. 
 
 In the March weather ' the world was growing 
 
 green, 
 Between the flying snow-showers ' glints of blue 
 
 were seen, 
 
 King and queen and valet ' all the dreary day, 
 One above them all ' King Richard did play. 
 
 He knew the change of fortune, ' he did not rail 
 
 on Fate, 
 
 He did not weep or wail ' a child disconsolate, 
 But meek as a wax image/ cap and shoes and ring, 
 Beard and curls and cope, 'he stood a malkin 
 
 king. 
 
 23
 
 Death of King Richard the Second 
 
 Into the arrased chamber ' came the murderers 
 
 at midnight, 
 
 They did their fell business ' by the candle-light, 
 In the free fields of Heaven ' all in white flower, 
 King Richard, smiling, saw 'far off his prison 
 
 tower.
 
 A BALLAD OF DICK 
 WHITTINGTON 
 
 DICK WHITTINGTON, the scullion lad 
 He ached in all his bones, 
 For the willow-dish he broke at Sext 
 They had beaten him at Nones, 
 He lay full-length upon the grass 
 And filled the air with moans. 
 
 Full sad was Dick on that June day 
 
 In time of cherry ripe, 
 
 The salt tears streamed adown his cheeks 
 
 So that his eyes to wipe 
 
 He from his hood of Lincoln green 
 
 Must twist the liripipe. 
 
 " There are seven days in the week," said Dick, 
 
 " They beat me on each one, 
 
 From morn till night I am on my feet, 
 
 My work is never done ; 
 
 All night I shiver and shake with the cold, 
 
 All day I sweat in the sun." 
 
 2$
 
 A Ballad of Dick Whittin^ton 
 
 Now Dick in life had one delight, 
 
 And that it was his cat ; 
 
 To see her pounce upon a mouse 
 
 Or spring upon a rat, 
 
 He oft forgot his aches and pains 
 
 In marvelling thereat. 
 
 " I and my cat together," said Dick, 
 " Will into the wide world fare, 
 Lest toiling in this house and garden 
 I fall into despair ; 
 I will seek out some shipman bold 
 And sail my fate to dare. 
 
 " Here in the kitchen I'll stay no longer, 
 My cat and I will away ; 
 Last night the bells of St. Mary Redcliffe, 
 Strange things they seemed to say ; 
 I may be wed to come great princess, 
 By next year come to-day." 
 
 Dick and the cat with courage faced 
 
 The hazards of the sea, 
 
 They sailed in the good ship Minette 
 
 By help of Seynte Marie, 
 
 They saw strange shores and came at last 
 
 To a port of Barbary. 
 
 26
 
 A Ballad of Dick Whittington 
 
 Now rats and mice devoured that land, 
 
 The harvests were laid waste, 
 
 The baked meats on the Sultan's table 
 
 Were by the mice defaced, 
 
 The Sultan's daughter from her bower 
 
 By great grey rats was chased. 
 
 Dick and the cat sprang on the quay 
 The cat made havoc then 
 Among the swarming mice until 
 The Moors they laughed again 
 And threw their turbans in the air, 
 Those grave and bearded men. 
 
 The Sultan walked amid the flowers 
 
 That blow at Whitsuntide, 
 
 The lilacs' white and purple plumes, 
 
 The peonies blood-red dyed, 
 
 The silver virginal white pinks 
 
 All in their feathered pride. 
 
 The Sultan walked in his pleasaunce 
 
 But in it took no joy, 
 
 Because the ruin of the realm 
 
 Did all his thoughts annoy ; 
 
 His vizier whispered him of Dick, 
 
 He bade them bring the boy. 
 
 27
 
 A Ballad of Dick Whittington 
 
 He came to meet Dick Whittington 
 
 And reached to him his hand, 
 
 And bowing, as Dick bowed, he said, 
 
 " Fair sir, I understand 
 
 That you have knowledge of remede 
 
 For the mice that mar the land." 
 
 It was the Sultan's daughter 
 
 And she went like a queen, 
 
 The veil had fallen from her face 
 
 And her bright eyes were seen ; 
 
 She walked amid the asparagus beds, 
 
 The Lady Mousseline. 
 
 Now Dick in the kitchen had sometimes glanced 
 
 At a little cook-maid sweet, 
 
 As she made the orange pudding 
 
 Or stuffed the pigs' feet, 
 
 But his heart at sight of the Sultan's daughter 
 
 Full furiously did beat. 
 
 
 
 Among the mice in the great hall 
 The cat they set her free, 
 The Sultan sat among his lords 
 Her gambols for to see, 
 28
 
 A Ballad of Dick Whittington 
 
 But Dick saw only the Sultan's daughter 
 That watched from the gallery. 
 
 All eyes save four were on the cat 
 As she went to and fro, 
 And in her deadly frolicking 
 The mice they were laid low ; 
 At last the Sultan summoned Dick 
 His pleasure for to know. 
 
 " Fair sir," he said, " our thanks are due 
 
 For help in our great need, 
 
 From this sore plague and heavy pest 
 
 At last the land is freed ; 
 
 Choose now what gold or dignity 
 
 You will to be your meed." 
 
 Now Dick went red and pale again, 
 
 But he made answer bold, 
 
 " I ask of Your Sublimity 
 
 No dignity nor gold, 
 
 But your dear daughter as my sweet wife 
 
 Within my arms to hold." 
 
 " Good Master Richard Whittington," 
 He said without a frown, 
 
 29
 
 A Ballad of Dick \Vhittington 
 
 " Right gladly would I give my daughter 
 To a man of your renown, 
 But you are of the Faith of Christ, 
 And we are of Mahoun." 
 
 The Sultan's daughter it was that answered 
 
 Tho' she felt faint and sick ; 
 
 She said, " When Jesu Christ shall come 
 
 To judge the dead and quick, 
 
 I'll stand in the same faith and law 
 
 On the Doomsday with Dick." 
 
 The Sultan feigned a visage grim 
 
 And fiercely threatened he, 
 
 But for love of Dick and his dear daughter 
 
 He aided them to flee ; 
 
 With jewels worth the half his kingdom 
 
 That night they put to sea. 
 
 All dukes and lords held candles 
 
 At the bride's christening, 
 
 A great red Cardinal came from Rome 
 
 To bless the wedding-ring ; 
 
 Dick henceforth lived with his sweet wife 
 
 As happy as a king. 
 
 30
 
 THE DOLEFUL DITTY OF 
 CARDINAL LA BALUE 
 
 THE cardinals pace the marble floor 
 As free as larks that sing and soar ; 
 The splendid cardinals, each a king, 
 As free as larks that soar and sing ; 
 As free beneath their spacious dome 
 As swallows in the air of Rome ; 
 They know no care, they know no thrall, 
 Like butterflies in their vast hall ; 
 In that great space as free and gay 
 As painted butterflies are they ; 
 The scarlet cardinals, two by two ; 
 But where is Cardinal la Balue ? 
 
 A captive in an iron cage, 
 
 He weeps, he cries for helpless rage ; 
 
 Within an iron cage he groans, 
 
 All day, all night, he sighs and moans ; 
 
 In misery on his iron bed 
 
 Against the bars he beats his head ; 
 
 He gnaws his lips, he tears his hair, 
 
 He feels a horrible despair ; 
 
 31
 
 Doleful Ditty of Cardinal la Balue 
 
 All numbed and cramped without relief 
 He lies and aches for pain and grief ; 
 He cannot rise, he needs must lie, 
 A captive bird that may not fly ; 
 A captive bird, I tell you true, 
 At Loches is Cardinal la Balue. 
 
 32
 
 BELLA ROSA 
 
 (circa 1620) 
 
 BELLA ROSA VAN DOSSELAERE 
 Her man killed in the Spanish wars, 
 Her brood flown and her home all broken, 
 Shelters behind the convent bars. 
 She has bread for daily needs 
 And a string of rosary beads ; 
 Striped and coloured like sea-shells 
 Of world's-end shores are the beads she tells, 
 Her great beads that she tells duly, 
 Cornelian, agate, lapis lazuli, 
 Coral, amber, aqua-marine, 
 Fit for the prayers of a Spanish queen ; 
 They seem amid the Aves' croon 
 Gems drawn by magic from the moon ; 
 On milk-white stones with rosy stains 
 She eases Purgatory pains ; 
 With Christe eleisons that she says 
 She dulls the ache of dreary days. 
 Bella Rosa van Dosselaere 
 Weary of all beneath the stars 
 Lulls her pain with De Profundis 
 For her man killed in the Spanish wars. 
 
 c 33
 
 THE PRINCE'S LULLABY 
 
 (An old peasant-woman lulls the 
 Tsarevitch Alexis to sleep) 
 
 SLEEP, Alechenka, on the soft pillows 
 Lay down at last thy tired little head, 
 On thy great bedstead all painted and 
 
 gilded, 
 
 Sleep, little Prince, 'neath the counterpane red ; 
 Have no fear, Alecha, sink into slumber, 
 Sleep, for the icons are all overhead. 
 
 Ivanoushka, Matoushka, all the kind faces, 
 Deep into dreamland will go with thee, 
 They will be with thee in wonderful places 
 That are hid in great woods or rise from the sea. 
 
 Sleep from the marvellous lands is coming, 
 He on his way already has sped, 
 Sleep that will lead thee to deeps below dreaming, 
 Quickly, dear Heart, he comes to thy bed, 
 Sleep that is sweeter than father or mother, 
 Honey or apples or home-made bread. . . . 
 
 34
 
 PATIENCE 
 
 MADAME DE LA TOUR D'lVOIRE 
 In her rose-red robe 
 Sits all day at the card-table 
 And plays the Patience of Job. 
 
 Her mate, Monsieur le Capitaine, 
 To the wars has gone ; 
 All day long at the card-table 
 She sits and plays alone. 
 
 White before the game be done 
 Will be her gold head ; 
 One day at the card-table 
 They will find her dead. 
 
 35
 
 AS GHOSTS MAY WALK 
 
 A ghosts may walk on August nights 
 Of lavender and dew, 
 As ghosts may walk at Peacock 
 
 Place 
 
 Thro' alleys of clipped yew, 
 As ghosts may walk in Picardy 
 The sleeping streets of Rue, 
 
 As ghosts may walk where in old days 
 
 They made so much ado, 
 
 As ghosts may walk that know no pain, 
 
 Dear love, I tell you true, 
 
 As ghosts may walk go up and down 
 
 My quiet thoughts of you.
 
 THE FAIRY PIEWOMAN 
 
 I 
 
 N the hot noon of Midsummer Day 
 The fairy piewoman goes her way. 
 
 The forest children know her well, 
 Deep in the wood they hear her bell. 
 
 " Who would be merry, who would be wise, 
 Let him taste my puddings and cakes and pies. 
 
 " Fresh from the oven are my hot cakes, 
 They melt in the mouth like creamy flakes. 
 
 " My dainty cakes are shaped like hearts, 
 There is pepper in my cream tarts. 
 
 " In my hidden palace come and dine 
 On tansy pudding and cowslip wine." 
 
 Natasha, Petroushka, as she goes past, 
 They run from their hut and follow fast. 
 
 They follow until a hill they see, 
 All cypress and anise and barberry. 
 
 37
 
 The Fairy Piewoman 
 
 They enter a palace fair and wide, 
 Hidden deep in the mountain-side. 
 
 A hundred years seems a moment there 
 Amid the blithe feasters that know no care. 
 
 There they eat as they rest from play 
 Honeycomb sprinkled with caraway. 
 
 The Midsummer Night like a moment has sped, 
 The children wake at home in bed. 
 
 There is a strange new light in their eyes, 
 They all their lives long will be merry and wise. 
 
 What they have seen they may not tell, 
 But their clothes are full of the cypress smell. 
 
 As the fairy piewoman goes her way 
 
 They listen and smile each Midsummer Day.
 
 "GAY, GAY, UPON THE 
 QUAY" 
 
 (An Old French Song) 
 
 " *W "IT THO is this that comes so late 
 ^y^7 O'er the bridge and to the gate ? 
 
 Gay gay, upon the quay, 
 With a gallant company. 
 
 " 'Tis a noble cavalier 
 Who a bride is seeking here." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " My lord, you must further ride, 
 Here you will not find a bride." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " Sir, I heard the good folks tell 
 Three fair daughters with you dwell." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " My lord, those who told it you 
 Told a tale that is not true." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 39
 
 " Gay, Gay, Upon the Quay 
 
 " Sir, 'tis time such talk were done, 
 Of fair daughters give me one." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 te 
 
 My lord, for my daughter's hand 
 Will you give her gold or land ? " 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " Sir, I will give gems and gold, 
 
 Riches more than may be told." 
 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " My lord, on your journey fare, 
 She for these things has no care." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " Sir, to her my heart I give, 
 I for her will die or live." 
 Gay, gay, etc. 
 
 " My lord, you your truth have shown. 
 Choose the fairest for your own." 
 Gay, gay, upon the quay, 
 With a gallant company. 
 
 40
 
 A SHIP of Angels 
 Sails down the Milky Way, 
 A Ship of Light that makes the night 
 Brighter than midday 
 Angels swift as swallows 
 And as peacocks gay, 
 Birds of a feather 
 Flocking together 
 In the kingfisher weather 
 Of Christmas Day. 
 The great Angels sing 
 But the little Angels play. 
 O'er the Ship they riot 
 Thro' the starry quiet, 
 All a-fire to land 
 On fair Bethlehem's strand, 
 For Earth now is Heaven, 
 And midwinter May : 
 " Adoro Te devote " 
 The heavenly people say. 
 
 4 1
 
 A CHRISTMAS CAROL 
 
 MAN and wife in the beginning 
 Lived in Eden without sinning, 
 Blissful, toiling not nor spinning 
 Long, long ago ; 
 
 Blithe were they till a dark hour 
 Struck the birds dumb in their bower, 
 Blight fell on the cherry-flower ; 
 Forth they must go. 
 
 Sadly forth from Eden faring, 
 
 Toil mid thorns and thistles sharing, 
 
 All the sons of Eve's child-bearing 
 
 Wandered in woe ; 
 
 Till the simple ones and wise 
 
 Found again lost Paradise 
 
 In a new-born Baby's Eyes 
 
 One night of snow.
 
 A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS 
 RHYME 
 
 " ly ^"ARY, Mary, the world's contrary, 
 I \/ 1 How does your garden grow ? " 
 ^ " With red, red roses and cloves 
 
 for posies ; 
 
 Outside is the deep snow." 
 
 See-saw, she sold her bed, 
 She sold her bed, Marjory Daw, 
 The Infant lies on Marjory's bed 
 And not on the wet straw. 
 
 Baby, Baby Bunting, 
 St. Joseph's gone a-hunting, 
 He will bring a white doe-skin 
 To wrap the Little Jesus in. 
 
 " Goosey, goosey gander, 
 Whither dost thou wander ? " 
 " In and out, and roundabout, 
 And in Our Lady's chamber, 
 There to see the good folk lost in their prayers 
 A-kneeling at the foot of the heavenly stairs." 
 
 43
 
 A Child's Christmas Rhyme 
 
 Sing a song of sixpence, 
 A pocket full of rye, 
 Four-and-twenty Angels 
 Coming from the sky ; 
 Now the sky is open, 
 The Angels all do sing ; 
 Here is merry music 
 For the little King. 
 
 Ride a cock-horse 
 
 To Bethlehem Cross 
 
 To see that fair Lady that is the World's Rose, 
 
 The rings on her fingers like jewels they shine, 
 
 The stars are all shining over the snows, 
 
 The stars all sing and the bells all ring, 
 
 She shall have music wherever she goes. 
 
 Old King Cole, that merry old soul, 
 Is here with fiddlers three, 
 They do desire to join the choir 
 Now making melody. 
 
 Little Jack Horner sits in a corner 
 Of that stable bare ; 
 Thro' all his years he'll say with tears 
 " Dear God, that I was there ! " 
 
 44
 
 A Child's Christmas Rhyme 
 
 Little Bo-Peep she sought her sheep, 
 A weary way she trod, 
 Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep 
 And found the Lamb of God. 
 
 Little Boy Blue blows up his horn 
 (O all green meadows and vines and corn !) 
 But that Little Boy that keeps all the sheep 
 Does not waken from His sweet sleep. 
 
 Little Miss Muffet 
 
 Sits on a tuffet 
 
 Eating of curds and whey ; 
 
 An Angel says to her 
 
 " Fear not, for sure, 
 
 For it is Christmas Day." 
 
 45
 
 THE CREATURES' NOWEL 
 
 WHERE Mary keeps her court 
 With the humble and the high, 
 The little dog has sport 
 For he is also by. 
 
 The creatures of the earth 
 They have great joy and mirth 
 On the night of the Great Birth. 
 
 The hedgehog and the hare 
 Are of that Birth aware, 
 Their timid footsteps go, 
 Quick, furtive, over the snow, 
 They come thro' the cold 
 The young Child to behold, 
 In the stable bare. 
 
 They have no fear there, 
 No hurt and no annoy, 
 But great bliss and joy 
 With the Baby Boy, 
 In that safe stable's shade 
 With none to make afraid, 
 To kill or to destroy.
 
 The Creatures' Nowel 
 
 The lamb in his white fleece 
 
 Plays with the wolf in peace, 
 
 The leopard lies down with the kid 
 
 The ox and the ass they bid 
 
 The lion to share their straw ; 
 
 All creatures tame or wild 
 
 Are there with the Little Child ; 
 
 The ox says " moo " and the ass " hee-haw." 
 
 47
 
 THE EPIPHANY COCK 
 
 THE thorn flowers in winter 
 As in mid-May ; 
 The cock crows at midnight 
 As at midday. 
 
 Thro' the world seeking 
 Go men most wise ; 
 They seek Wisdom, 
 The Quest's high prize, 
 They seek and find it 
 In a Child's Eyes. 
 
 Angels in the stable 
 Sing as in Heaven, 
 The cock on the hay-rack 
 Crows like seven. 
 
 They come with great clouds, 
 With wind and with rain, 
 Black friars and brown friars 
 And grey friars of Spain,
 
 The Epiphany Cock 
 
 The tall young Princes, 
 The grave Grandees, 
 The bearded captains 
 That sail the seas. 
 
 They come without number, 
 The cave they fill, 
 They kneel in silence, 
 The cock crows still. 
 
 Their great torches 
 Shed a red light 
 On the thorn hedges 
 Flowering white. 
 
 Angels sing sweetly, 
 Without fear, 
 To the new lands 
 The cock crows clear. 
 
 The clouds are gilded 
 And all the throng 
 Breaks into a tumult 
 And rapture of song ; 
 The cock crows madly 
 The whole night long. 
 
 D 49
 
 The Epiphany Cock 
 
 The cock the night thro' 
 Crows as at morn, 
 He cries " C6-c6-ri-co, 
 Christ is born."
 
 A KING-TIDE CAROL 
 
 TO worship the King there came three 
 kings 
 Thro' the snowy weather, 
 They wore their royal robes and rings, 
 Four kings together. 
 
 One was a warrior stout and strong, 
 One was a grey-beard mild, 
 One was a blackamoor in a red turban, 
 And they came to a little Child. 
 
 They came from far, they saw a star, 
 They followed where it went, 
 Gold, musk and myrrh all wrapped in silk, 
 They bore with kind intent. 
 
 Herod the king sent for those kings 
 
 For to inquire of them ; 
 
 He feared for his gown, his sceptre and crown, 
 
 In his court at Jerusalem.
 
 A King-tide Carol 
 
 " Where is He born that I may come 
 And worship Him also ? " 
 In this disguise he did devise 
 That young Child to lay low. 
 
 The three kings came at last to the stable 
 Their carol for to sing, 
 They saw the young Child and His Mother 
 And there they worshipped the King. 
 
 " Rise up, rise up, my merry men all," 
 King Herod then did say, 
 " In Bethlehem slay all young children, 
 So this Child ye may slay." 
 
 An Angel appeared in a dream to Joseph 
 With peacock plumes and an alb of white, 
 "Take the young Child and His Mother," he 
 
 said, 
 " God speed you in your flight." 
 
 To Egypt Joseph hasted 
 
 By Nile-bank there to dwell, 
 
 The three kings sailed to their own countree, 
 
 Marvelling at what befell. 
 
 52
 
 A King-tide Carol 
 
 Three kings, four kings, five kings here 
 In their histories do appear, 
 One King stronger is than seven 
 When that King is the Lord of Heaven, 
 
 53
 
 MARY MALHEUREUSE 
 
 w 
 
 EEPING, weeping all day long, 
 Too sore or sick for prayer or song, 
 Sits Mary Malheureuse ; 
 
 Her eyes are blinded with salt tears 
 
 There is no good nor joyful news 
 
 Can fall upon her ears ; 
 
 Her heart is sick her Son to see ; 
 
 In death no greater pain can be 
 
 For Mary Malheureuse ; 
 
 " My death I died upon the Tree," 
 
 Says Mary Malheureuse. 
 
 On the third day before the morn 
 
 Her Son comes from the grave new-born 
 
 To Mary Malheureuse ; 
 
 With His own hand He wipes her tears, 
 From His own lips the joyful news 
 Then falls upon her ears ; 
 Her heart stands still her Son to see, 
 
 54
 
 Mary Malheureuse 
 
 In Heaven no greater joy can be 
 
 For Mary Malheureuse ; 
 
 " For whom have I in Heaven but Thee ? " 
 
 Says Mary Bienheureuse. 
 
 55
 
 THE PASCHAL CANDLE 
 
 THIS is the Light before the sun 
 From which was kindled the solar fire, 
 This is the Flame to which all flames 
 
 run, 
 
 Seeking their Source and their Desire. 
 The sun blood-red or blinding white 
 Is but a spark of the Paschal Light. 
 
 
 
 Of a myriad mornings will remain 
 
 No single transient rosy stain ; 
 
 The terrible monarch of midday 
 
 Will utterly vanish from space away ; 
 
 The liquid ruby orb of eve 
 
 No visionary gleam will leave ; 
 
 But the Paschal Light will light the birth 
 
 Of the new heaven and the new earth. 
 
 This is the Light Perpetual 
 
 That on the Eternal World will fall. 
 
 
 
 The Candlemas Candle was frail and faint 
 In the trembling hands of the grey-beard saint ; 
 The Candlemas Candle was small and white 
 That gleams to-day as the Paschal Light 
 
 56
 
 The Paschal Candle 
 
 This is the Light of that awful One 
 That will put out the light of the sun, 
 But that Light to-day is kind and mild 
 Soft April radiance undefiled. 
 
 
 
 It has kindled a twinkling flood 
 Of lights that dance and play, 
 Flames like flowers in a multitude, 
 Stars of the Milky Way, 
 Daffodils of a daffodil wood, 
 Candles of Candlemas Day, 
 Many-coloured as crocus-beds 
 Or fields of tulips in May. 
 They dance and twinkle every one, 
 They dance to-day with the dancing sun 
 In the Eternal Easter bright 
 They will twinkle, true light of the Paschal Light. 
 
 57
 
 THE REFUGE 
 
 (Turris, Janua, Rosa, Stella) 
 
 ONCE an Ivory Tower 
 Sprang from the earth like a 
 flower ; 
 
 Soul, in the world's dark hour 
 Flee to the Ivory Tower. 
 
 Once a Heavenly Gate 
 Opened and changed man's fate ; 
 Soul, from lands desolate 
 Fare to the Heavenly Gate. 
 
 Once a Mystic Rose 
 Flowered in a world of woes ; 
 Soul, amid mortal throes 
 Hope in the Mystic Rose. 
 
 Once a Rose of the World 
 Petal by petal uncurled ; 
 Soul, by the torrent whirled 
 Joy in the Rose of the World
 
 The Refuge 
 
 Once a Morning Star 
 Shone o'er dark vales afar ; 
 Soul, from the night of war 
 Turn to the Morning Star. 
 
 Once a Star of the Sea 
 Showed a fair Haven free ; 
 Soul, out of misery 
 Follow the Star of the Sea. 
 
 59
 
 IN LACRIMARUM VALLE 
 
 (Christmas, 1914) 
 
 THE valley of the shadows tenebrous, 
 The valley of tears, the valley desolate 
 We tread where fiends of ravin and of 
 
 hate 
 
 Strike mortal cold to hearts most valorous ; 
 Mother, we cry to thee ; our need is great ; 
 To thee we send up voices clamorous ; 
 Bend pitying eyes upon our woeful state, 
 Mother of the Saviour, Mary Immaculate, 
 Mary Annunciate, Mary Dolorous, 
 Mary in Glory, pray thy Son for us, 
 That He send forth the Dove from Heaven's 
 
 gate 
 
 Into our wasted lands and devastate, 
 That He who is our Peace rule over us 
 In Peace that wars no more may desecrate. 
 
 60
 
 TO WILLIAM II 
 
 YOU who sowed the seas with death and 
 filled the world with weeping, 
 You whose pride was glutted with an 
 
 unmeasured pain, 
 You who fired on drowning lads, threw bombs on 
 
 children sleeping, 
 You who wrecked the Rose of Reims, you who 
 
 sacked Louvain ; 
 
 Caitiff, you shall see ere your vile day is ended 
 Springing from the blood of these unnumbered 
 
 slain, 
 
 Europe's One Republic rise serene and splendid, 
 Happy lands and holy seas from Russia unto 
 Spain. 
 
 61
 
 DIRJE. FACIES 
 
 THE Flemish carillon-towers are cracked 
 and scorched 
 As Hell's red fury round them flames 
 
 and hails ; 
 
 Into Ancona the drowned fisher-lads 
 From the Adriatic wrapped in sheets and sails 
 They bring from their mined boats ; the carnage 
 
 grows 
 
 Till the earth shudders and all Europe wails ; 
 Everywhere is the rustle of Death's wings. 
 To the mad despot as he cowers and quails 
 Appear the direful faces that portend 
 The imminent doom of Kaisers and of Kings, 
 And the Hohenzollerns' fated shameful end, 
 As the divine and popular will prevails, 
 And, loaded with the curses of mankind 
 They sink in the Bloody Sea, and all help fails. 
 
 62
 
 IN THE BALKANS 
 
 IN the far savage country 
 Where he must go, 
 In the wild brigand country 
 He lies low, 
 
 In the cold cut-throat country 
 Under the snow. 
 
 Body and brain are broken 
 
 And lie with broken things ; 
 
 Draw close the curtains 
 
 Round the beds of kings, 
 
 Lest they wake with the cold o' winter nights 
 
 When the wind sings. 
 
 This boy lies frozen, 
 
 Caked with blood and mire, 
 
 The crows strip his flesh from his bones 
 
 To serve the kings' desire ; 
 
 The kings in winter 
 
 Nod and drink by the fire.
 
 In the Balkans 
 
 This boy's agony 
 
 No tongue may tell ; 
 
 Ferdinand and Francis, 
 
 Wilhelm as well, 
 
 They will fall asleep on soft beds 
 
 And wake in Hell.
 
 THE DEVIL'S DAY 
 
 THE Devil's kingdom is come, 
 111 is the news we tell, 
 The Devil's will is done 
 On earth as it is in hell ; 
 He has us in his net, 
 We cannot break the spell. 
 
 The Devil's will is done, 
 There is none to say him nay, 
 The Devil's kingdom is come, 
 His poor thralls can but pray ; 
 We pray in the black midnight 
 To the Saints of the beautiful Day. 
 
 The Devil rides us down, 
 
 He treads us in the mire, 
 
 He is Prince of the Power of the air, 
 
 He has power over water and fire ; 
 
 We can but knock at the gate 
 
 Of the Inn of our Desire.
 
 The Devil's Day 
 
 The Devil keeps his feast, 
 
 His court and kingdom and reign, 
 
 Our joy is hidden and changed 
 
 To sick and angry pain ; 
 
 Mary, Cause of our Joy, 
 
 Show us our joy again. 
 
 66
 
 DARK BEFORE DAWN 
 
 BLACK are the skies overhead, 
 We see no token or sign, 
 Numberless are the dead, 
 Wormwood is all our wine, 
 Because of the salt tears shed 
 Sweet waters are turned to brine. 
 
 The minstrels make no mirth, 
 Shepherds and vine-dressers flee, 
 Desolate lies the earth, 
 There are no sails on the sea, 
 The earth is in pain with the birth 
 Of bitterest things to be. 
 
 
 
 Break thro' the dark, the heavy dark, 
 The deathly dark of night, 
 Diluculum, diluculum, 
 Dear dawn of our Delight, 
 
 Break thro' the dark and show to us 
 The hidden Heart of fire, 
 Diluculum, diluculum, 
 Dear dawn of our Desire.
 
 Dark Before Dawn 
 
 Break thro' the dark and scatter far 
 All evil dreams away, 
 Diluculum, diluculum, 
 Dear dawn of our new Day. 
 
 68
 
 DAYBREAK 
 
 THIS is earth's darkest hour 
 And blind unreason rules, 
 The lands lie prone beneath 
 The tragical torn-fools. 
 
 Yet upon men beguiled 
 That wander in dark ways, 
 There shall arise a light 
 Like the light of seven days. 
 
 The blinding light shall free 
 The peoples held in thrall, 
 In the day of the great slaughter 
 When the towers fall.
 
 Uniform with this Volume. 3s 6d net 
 
 DAVID IN HEAVEN 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 R. L. GALES 
 
 THE TIMES says: 
 
 "The ballad, the folk-song, the carol, the child's rhyme 
 absorb Mr. Gale' s poetic activity ; and he catches with 
 great success both the naivete" of thought and phrase and 
 the melody of cadence which gives them life." 
 
 THE OBSERVER says : 
 
 " Many people remembering his ' Studies in Arcady ' and 
 his delightful ' Posy of Folk Songs ' keep on the look out 
 for the work of the Rev. R. L. Gales. It has qualities of 
 simplicity and freshness that are most attractive, and are 
 to be found on every page of his new book of poems." 
 
 THE GLOBE says : 
 
 " There is a delightful air of old-time minstrelsy about 
 
 several of the verses, and a real poetic flavour." 
 
 THE EXPOSITORY TIMES says : 
 
 " The poem which gives its name to the volume, ' David 
 
 in Heaven,' is daring in conception but charming in 
 
 execution." 
 
 THE CHURCH TIMES says : 
 
 "These are songs which make glad the heart. We ask 
 
 from Mr. Gales more, and yet more." 
 
 THE BOOKMAN says: 
 
 " One need not be invidious and say that ' David in 
 Heaven' is the most beautiful book of the memorable 
 year, because that would be to compare it with earthly 
 books, whereas it is pure heavenly. Mr. Gales is own 
 brother to the makers of ' J erusalem, My Happy Home ' 
 and ' In a Valley of the Restful Minde.' It is a big 
 claim to make for any poet, but it is substantiated. . . . 
 All the glow, the tender intimacy, the simplicity of the 
 ages of Faith, are here. ... It is as though a painter 
 arose in our day to paint with the eyes and the heart of 
 Filippo L4ppi, or Francia, or Angelico, or Botticelli."
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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