Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, KING CHARLEMAGNE, by ROBERT SOUTHEY



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KING CHARLEMAGNE, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Twas strange that he loved her, for youth was gone by
Last Line: Of the spell that possess'd charlemagne.
Subject(s): Beauty; Charlemagne (742-814); Curses; Festivals; Love; Man-woman Relationships; Story-telling; Women; Fairs; Pageants; Male-female Relations


T was strange that he loved her, for youth was gone by,
And the bloom of her beauty was fled,
'Twas the glance of the harlot that gleam'd in her eye,
And all but the monarch disgusted descry
The art that had tinged her cheek red.

Yet he thought with Agatha none might compare,
That kings might be proud of her chain;
The court was a desert if she were not there,
She only was lovely, she only was fair,
Such dotage possess'd Charlemagne.

The soldier, the statesman, the courtier, the maid,
Alike this their rival detest;
And the good old archbishop who ceased to upbraid
Shook his grey head in sorrow, and silently pray'd
To sing her the requiem of rest.

A joy ill-dissembled soon gladdens them all,
For Agatha sickens and dies.
And now they are ready with bier and with pall,
The tapers gleam gloomy amid the high hall,
And the bell tolls long through the skies.

They came, but he sent them in anger away,
For she should not be buried, he said;
And despite of all counsel, for many a day,
Array'd in her costly apparel she lay,
And he would go sit by the dead.

The cares of the kingdom demand him in vain,
The army in vain ask their lord;
The Lombards, the fierce misbelievers of Spain,
Now ravage the realms of the proud Charlemagne,
And still he unsheathes not the sword.

The soldiers they clamour, the priests bend in prayer,
In the quiet retreats of the cell;
The physicians to counsel together repair,
They pause and they ponder, at last they declare
That his senses are bound by a spell.

With relics protected, and confident grown,
And telling devoutly his beads,
The archbishop prepares him, and when it was known
That the king for awhile left the body alone,
To search for the spell he proceeds.

Now careful he searches with tremulous haste
For the spell that bewitches the king;
And under the tongue for security placed,
Its margin with mystical characters faced,
At length he discovers a ring.

Exulting he seiz'd it and hasten'd away,
The monarch re-entered the room;
The enchantment was ended, and suddenly gay,
He bade the attendants no longer delay
But bear her with speed to the tomb.

Now merriment, joyaunce, and feasting again
Enlivened the palace of Aix;
And now by his heralds did king Charlemagne
Invite to his palace the courtier train
To hold a high festival day.

And anxiously now for the festival day
The highly-born maidens prepare;
And now all apparell'd in costly array,
Exulting they come to the palace of Aix,
Young and aged, the brave and the fair.

Oh! happy the damsel who 'mid her compeers
For a moment engaged the king's eye!
Now glowing with hopes and now fever'd with fears,
Each maid or triumphant or jealous appears
As noticed by him or past by.

And now as the evening approach'd, to the ball
In anxious suspense they advance;
Each hoped the king's choice on her beauties might fall,
When, lo! to the utter confusion of all,
He ask'd the archbishop to dance.

The damsels they laugh and the barons they stare,
'Twas mirth and astonishment all;
And the archbishop started and muttered a prayer,
And, wroth at receiving such mockery there,
Withdrew him in haste from the hall.

The moon dimpled over the water with light
As he wandered along the lake side,
When, lo! where beside him the king met his sight,
"Oh, turn thee, archbishop, my joy and delight!
Oh, turn thee, my charmer!" he cried.

"Oh come where the feast, and the dance, and the song
Invite thee to mirth and to love;
Or at this happy moment, away from the throng,
To the shade of yon wood let us hasten along—
The moon never pierces that grove."

Amazement and anger the prelate possest,
With terror his accents he heard,
Then Charlemagne warmly and eagerly prest
The archbishop's old wither'd hand to his breast,
And kiss'd his old gray grizzle beard.

"Let us well, then, these fortunate moments employ!"
Cried the monarch with passionate tone:
"Come away, then, dear charmer—my angel—my joy,
Nay, struggle not now—'tis in vain to be coy—
And remember that we are alone."

"Blessed Mary, protect me!" the archbishop cried;
"What madness is come to the king!"
In vain to escape from the monarch he tried,
When luckily he on his finger espied
The glitter of Agatha's ring.

Overjoy'd, the old prelate remembered the spell,
And far in the lake flung the ring;
The waters closed round it, and wond'rous to tell,
Released from the cursed enchantment of hell,
His reason returned to the king.

But he built him a palace there close by the bay,
And there did he 'stablish his reign;
And the traveller who will, may behold at this day
A monument now in the ruins at Aix
Of the spell that possess'd Charlemagne.





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