III

     More intimate became the forest fear
     While pillared darkness hatched malicious life
     At either elbow, wolf or gnome or knife
     And wary slid the glance from ear to ear.

     IV

     In chillness, like a clouded lantern-ray,
     The forest’s heart of fog on mossed morass,
     On purple pool and silky cotton-grass,
     Revealed where lured the swallower byway.

     V

     Dead outlook, flattened back with hard rebound
     Off walls of distance, left each mounted height. 
     It seemed a giant hag-fiend, churning spite
     Of humble human being, held the ground.

     VI

     Through friendless wastes, through treacherous woodland, slow
     The feet sustained by track of feet pursued
     Pained steps, and found the common brotherhood
     By sign of Heaven indifferent, Nature foe.

     VII

     Anon a mason’s work amazed the sight,
     And long-frocked men, called Brothers, there abode. 
     They pointed up, bowed head, and dug and sowed;
     Whereof was shelter, loaf, and warm firelight.

     VIII

     What words they taught were nails to scratch the head. 
     Benignant works explained the chanting brood. 
     Their monastery lit black solitude,
     As one might think a star that heavenward led.

     IX

     Uprose a fairer nest for weary feet,
     Like some gold flower nightly inward curled,
     Where gentle maidens fled a roaring world,
     Or played with it, and had their white retreat.

     X

     Into big books of metal clasps they pored. 
     They governed, even as men; they welcomed lays. 
     The treasures women are whose aim is praise,
     Was shown in them:  the Garden half restored.

     XI

     A deluge billow scoured the land off seas,
     With widened jaws, and slaughter was its foam. 
     For food, for clothing, ambush, refuge, home,
     The lesser savage offered bogs and trees.

     XII

     Whence reverence round grey-haired story grew: 
     And inmost spots of ancient horror shone
     As temples under beams of trials bygone;
     For in them sang brave times with God in view.

     XIII

     Till now trim homesteads bordered spaces green,
     Like night’s first little stars through clearing showers. 
     Was rumoured how a castle’s falcon towers
     The wilderness commanded with fierce mien.

     XIV

     Therein a serious Baron stuck his lance;
     For minstrel songs a beauteous Dame would pout. 
     Gay knights and sombre, felon or devout,
     Pricked onward, bound for their unsung romance.

     XV

     It might be that two errant lords across
     The block of each came edged, and at sharp cry
     They charged forthwith, the better man to try. 
     One rode his way, one couched on quiet moss.