Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SQUIRE'S PEW, by JANE TAYLOR


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SQUIRE'S PEW, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A slanting ray of evening light
Last Line: Shall occupy the squire's pew.
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers


A slanting ray of evening light
Shoots through the yellow pane;
It makes the faded crimson bright,
And gilds the fringe again:
The window's gothic frame-work falls
In oblique shadow on the walls.

And since those trappings first were new,
How many a cloudless day,
To rob the velvet of its hue,
Has come and pass'd away!
How many a setting sun hath made
That curious lattice-work of shade!

Crumbled beneath the hillock green,
The cunning hand must be,
That carv'd this fretted door, I ween,
Acorn, and fleur-de-lis;
And now the worm hath done her part,
In mimicking the chisel's art.

—In days of yore (as now we call)
When the first James was king;
The courtly knight from yonder hall,
Hither his train did bring;
All seated round in order due,
With broider'd suit and buckled shoe.

On damask cushions, set in fringe,
All reverently they knelt:
Prayer-books, with brazen hasp and hinge,
In ancient English spelt,
Each holding in a lily hand,
Responsive at the priest's command.

—Now, streaming down the vaulted aisle,
The sunbeam, long and lone,
Illumes the characters awhile
Of their inscription stone;
And there, in marble hard and cold,
The knight and all his train behold.

Outstretch'd together, are express'd
He and my lady fair;
With hands uplifted on the breast,
In attitude of prayer;
Long visag'd, clad in armor, he,
With ruffled arm and bodice, she.

Set forth, in order as they died,
The numerous offspring bend;
Devoutly kneeling side by side,
As though they did intend
For past omissions to atone,
By saying endless prayers in stone.

Those mellow days are past and dim,
But generations new,
In regular descent from him,
Have fill'd the stately pew;
And in the same succession go,
To occupy the vault below.

And now, the polish'd, modern squire,
And his gay train appear;
Who duly to the hall retire,
A season, every year;
And fill the seats with belle and beau,
As 'twas so many years ago.

Perchance, all thoughtless as they tread
The hollow sounding floor,
Of that dark house of kindred dead,
Which shall, as heretofore,
In turn, receive, to silent rest,
Another, and another guest.

The feather'd hearse and sable train,
In all its wonted state,
Shall wind along the village lane,
And stand before the gate;
—Brought many a distant county thro',
To join the final rendezvous.

And when the race is swept away,
All to their dusty beds;
Still shall the mellow evening ray
Shine gaily o'er their heads:
While other faces, fresh and new,
Shall occupy the squire's pew.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net