Poems (Scudder)/Hauviette's Prayer
HAUVIETTE'S PRAYER
Brown Hauviette am I the elders call Of tongue too keen, of hazel eyes too soft, And I have left the dance to kneel alone In this grey chapel where she came so oft.
My Jeanne. And dare I pray for her whose life In deeds of sweetest piety was spent—And yet she loved me so she could not bear To say farewell to me before she went.
Black Robin caught me near the chapel door And kissed me ere I wrenched myself away. I was so angry with him when he laughed Because I bade him leave me here to pray.
Saint Catherine with that great fiery wheel, Saint Margaret who gazing calm above Tramples that monstrous dragon under foot— Terrible saints, more meet for fear than love.
Mild Agnes with her lamb clasped to her breast Were fitter patron for a pleader who Is but an humble, timid shepherd lass— Yet, since she loved you most I come to you,
With such small gifts as I who am not rich Even among our peasant folk may bring Jeanne always brought you flowers. I have searched Forest and meadow for my offering.
Wood-lilies, faintly scented violets, The blossoms of the wild strawberry vine, And honeysuckles tinged with pink as though They held the last lees of the fairies' wine.
I ask not for such mighty favor showed To me as once to her that ye appearBefore me in angelic splendor clad— Indeed, I think I should go mad for fear.
But guard her, keep her from all scathe and ill On that strange path she treads, and when all's o'erLet her return, the same dear, simple soul Tender and kindly as she was of yore.