Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BRYAN OF BRITTANY, by JAMES ELROY FLECKER



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BRYAN OF BRITTANY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Roses are golden or white or red
Last Line: "must over the hill with me."
Subject(s): Brittany, France


Roses are golden or white or red
And green or grey for a sea,
But the loveliest girl alive, men said,
Was Bryan of Brittany.

Court or courtier never a one
Had Bryan the farmer's lass:
Her glorious hair was spread in the sun
And her feet were dewed in the grass.

Evening opened a flower in the skies
And shut the others asleep:
Home she came with the West in her eyes,
Driving her silver sheep.

"O Mother, say, and brothers seven,
What guests are these we have
With beards as white as the snow of heaven
And their dark faces grave?

"But are they merchants from the towns
Or captains from the sea,
These that are clothed in crimson gowns,
And bow to the earth to me?"

"O kiss me, Bryan, and take the ring:
Kiss me good-bye, my daughter:
You're to marry a crowned king
In Babylon over the water."

Golden hair as the gold of a rose
Had Bryan of Brittany,
And her breasts were white as the foam, and the light
Of her eyes was the light of the sea.

"What shall I do in Babylon
A crowned king to keep?
I'll not leave you and my brother John
And my flock of silver sheep."

"Ah, Bryan, bravely spoken,
And bravely, dear, you speak,
Not to leave me heart-broken
And mother old and weak."

Said James the eldest brother,
With his deep black eyes ablaze,
"They bring us gold, O mother,
And jewels with red rays."

And John, the youngest brother,
Whose eyes were bright and blue,
Said, "let her go, my mother:
I'll bring her back to you."
"Swear by Christ's love then, my son John,
That when I feel the pain
You'll go to leafy Babylon
And bring her back again."

"By Christ upon the Cross who bled
And the seventy saints of Rome,
I'll go there living or go there dead,
And bring my sister home."

II

It fell the mother had not seen
A second Whitsuntide
Since Bryan sailed, a Persian Queen,
When her seven sons all died.

"O false and faithless, my son John,
And traitor in your tomb:
Who now will go to Babylon
And bring me Bryan home? --

"Whose hair is the golden gold of a rose,
And red rose lips has she,
And her breasts are as white as the foam, and the light
Of her eyes is the light of the sea."
III

It chanced a summer night so fair,
A night so fair and calm,
Bryan was combing her beautiful hair
In the moon, beneath a palm.

And gently sounded through the skies
Slow bells of Babylon,
When there came one with bright blue eyes
And the face of her brother John.

"Bryan, away from Babylon:
Our mother weeps to-night!"
"How tall you are, my brother John,
And your blue eyes how bright!"

"Oh, I am tall enough to stand
And eyed enough to see,
And we'll go round by way of the land
From here to Brittany."

Days went on and the road went on
And skies brought paler skies: --
"You never sleep, my brother John,
You never close your eyes."

"O Bryan, sister, do not fear,
And Bryan, do not weep:
Before I came to find you, dear,
I had enough of sleep."

Days went on and the road went on,
And stars to pale or shine: --
"You never eat, my brother John,
Nor drink a drop of wine."

"Fear not, dear girl: though long our road
So great a strength is mine,
For I have eaten holy food,
And drunk a scented wine."

A month and a year and a day had gone,
They came to a sweet country:
O the silver shades of the forest glades
Of Bryan's Brittany!

And the little birds began to talk
In voices faintly human: --
"Who ever saw a dead man walk
Beside a rosy woman?"

"O brother, listen to the birds
Chattering all together!"
"The talk of the birds is feather words
And lighter than a feather.

"Open, mother, to your son John,
And open to your daughter:
I bring you Bryan from Babylon,
From Babylon over the water.

"And her hair is the golden gold of a rose,
And her lips as the red rose tree,
And her breasts are as white as the foam, and the light
Of her eyes is the light of the sea.

"But I must back and over the hill,
And Bryan must over the sea,
And you, old mother, who sit quite still,
Must over the hill with me."





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