The Pearl | Page 3

radiant rocks arise.
A man might scarce believe his
eyes,
Such gleaming glory was from them sent;
No woven web may
men devise
Of half such wondrous beauties blent.
In beauty shone each fair hillside

With crystal cliffs in shining row,

While bright woods everywhere abide,
Their boles as blue as indigo;

Like silver clear the leaves spread wide,
That on each spray

thick-quivering grow;
If a flash of light across them glide
With
shimmering sheen they gleam and glow;
The gravel on the ground
below
Seemed precious pearls of Orient;
The sunbeams did but
darkling show
So gloriously those beauties blent.
The beauty of the hills so fair
Made me forget my sufferings;
I
breathed fruit fragrance fine and rare,
As if I fed on unseen things;

Brave birds fly through the woodland there,
Of flaming hues, and
each one sings;
With their mad mirth may not compare
Cithern nor
gayest citole-strings;
For when those bright birds beat their wings,

They sing together, all content;
Keen joy to any man it brings
To
hear and see such beauties blent.
So beautiful was all the wood
Where, guided forth by Chance, I
strayed,
There is no tongue that fully could
Describe it, though all
men essayed.
Onward I walked in merriest mood
Nor any highest
hill delayed
My feet. Far through the forest stood
The plain with
fairest trees arrayed,
Hedges and slopes and rivers wide,
Like gold
thread their banks' garnishment;
And when I won the waterside,

Dear Lord! what wondrous beauties blent!
The beauties of that stream were steep,
All-radiant banks of beryl
bright;
Sweet-sighing did the water sweep,
With murmuring music
running light;
Within its bed fair stones lay deep;
As if through
glass they glowed, as white
As streaming stars when tired men sleep

Shine in the sky on a winter night.
Pure emerald even the pebbles
seemed,
Sapphire, or other gems that lent
Luster, till all the water
gleamed
With the glory of such beauties blent.
III
For the beauteousness of downs and dales,
Of wood and water and
proud plains,
My joy springs up and my grief quails,
My anguish
ends, and all my pains.
A swift stream down the valley hales
My

feet along. Bliss brims my brains;
The farther I follow those watery
vales,
The stronger joy my heart constrains.
While Fortune fares as
her proud will deigns,
Sending solace or sending sore,
When a man
her fickle favour gains,
He looketh to have aye more and more.
There was more of marvel and of grace
Than I could tell, howe'er I
tried;
The human heart that could embrace
A tenth part were well
satisfied;
For Paradise, the very place,
Must be upon that farther
side;
The water by a narrow space
Pleasance from pleasance did
divide.
Beyond, on some slope undescried
The City stood, I thought,
wherefore
I strove to cross the river's tide,
And ever I longed, yet
more and more.
More, and still more wistfully,
The banks beyond the brook I scanned;

If, where I stood, 't was fair to see,
Still lovelier lay that farther
land.
I sought if any ford might be
Found, up or down, by rock or
sand;
But perils plainer appeared to me,
The farther I strode along
the strand;
I thought I ought not thus to stand
Timid, with such
bright bliss before;
Then a new matter came to hand
That moved
my heart yet more and more.
Marvels more and more amaze
My mind beyond that water fair:

From a cliff of crystal, splendid rays,
Reflected, quiver in the air.
At
the cliff's foot a vision stays
My glance, a maiden debonaire,
All
glimmering white before my gaze;
And I know her,--have seen her
otherwhere.
Like fine gold leaf one cuts with care,
Shone the
maiden on the farther shore.
Long time I looked upon her there,

And ever I knew her more and more.
As more and more I scanned her face

And form, when I had found
her so,
A glory of gladness filled the place
Beyond all it was wont
to show.
My joy would call her and give chase,
But wonder struck
my courage low;
I saw her in so strange a place,
The shock turned
my heart dull and slow.
But now she lifts that brow aglow,
Like

ivory smooth, even as of yore,
It made my senses straying go,
It
stung my heart aye more and more.
IV
More than I liked did my fear rise.
Stock still I stood and dared not
call;
With lips close shut and watchful eyes,
I stood as quiet as
hawk in hall.
I thought her a spirit from the skies;
I doubted what
thing might befall;
If to escape me now she tries,
How shall my
voice her flight forestall?
Then graciously and gay withal,
In royal
robes, so sweet, so slight,
She rose, so modest and so small,
That
precious one in pearls bedight.
Pearl bedight full royally,
Adown the bank with merry mien,
Came
the maiden, fresh as fleur-de-lys.
Her surcoat linen must have been

Shining in whitest purity,
Slashed at the sides and caught between

With the fairest pearls, it seemed to me,
That ever yet mine eyes had
seen;
With large folds falling loose, I ween,
Arrayed with double
pearls, her white
Kirtle, of the same linen sheen,
With precious
pearls all round was dight.
A crown with pearls bedight, the girl
Was wearing, and no other
stone;
High pinnacled of clear white pearl,
Wrought as if pearls to
flowers were grown.
No band nor fillet else