Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE RING OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, by HENRY S. LOVEJOY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE RING OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, by                    
First Line: Within his tent the gold king of the north
Last Line: "and muttered ceaselessly, ""my ring, my ring."
Subject(s): Gustavus Ii Adolphus, King (1595-1632); Yale University; Gustavus Ii Adolphus, King Of Sweden


WITHIN his tent the Gold King of the North
Sat feasting; merry bits of Swedish songs
Or solemn, deep-toned hymns of Germany
Broke forth in turn and trembled on the air
Till shouts of laughter drowned their melody.
An hundred torches flaring in their racks
Cast on the warrior's arms a dancing light
And reddened their fair hair and flaxen beards.
A noble, near the entrance, raised the flap
And gazed into the night; then, "See!" he cried,
"The North Wind holds; for Sweden that bodes good.
Success awaits us! Lord, I drink to thee!
Gustavus! Hail, Gustavus, hero-king!
'Cum Deo et victricibus armis!'"
The king, with eyes alight and fair cheeks flushed,
Sprang smiling to his feet. "My friends," he cried,
"I thank you. If your arms be but as strong
As your good-will, I fear no Wallenstein.
We shall prevail. I have a talisman
That, while I keep it, shields me from all harm.
When Gustav Vasa at the Mora Stone
Took oath to free our Sweden from the Danes,
A priest, the last who served the old Norse gods,
Gave him a ring on which in ancient runes
Was graven deep, 'Great Odin grants to him
Who wears this ring long life and sure success
As long as he is just and merciful.'
From sire to son this talisman has passed
A precious heirloom for our race, preserved
By mercy and by justice in our rule."
Gustavus ceased and fumbled at his throat.
"My lords," he said, "you shall behold the ring
That fights for me and guards my very life
As long as I am 'just and merciful.'"
But suddenly there burst into the tent
A soldier with bound hands and naked back;
He pushed his way among the startled lords
And threw himself before the angry king.
"Oh wise and gracious sovereign, pity me;
Look at these wounds I gained in serving you."
The suppliant raised his head. "As you are just
I pray you give me justice, my dread king."
Gustavus, red with sense of injured pride,
Indignant for his interrupted tale,
Disdained the soldier kneeling at his feet.
"Seize him and drag him forth to punishment,"
He bade the guards who waited at the door.
"And in addition to the sentence passed
Give him a score of lashes with your thongs;
Presumption such as this deserves no less."
The soldier slowly rose to his full height
And stared into the hard eyes of the king
That flashed with thousand points of chilly steel.
"Oh, most just king," he said, and then he laughed,
"Most cruel rather than most just," he sneered.
Wrath choked the king; he swayed upon his feet
And whispered to himself in maddened rage;
Then frantically he tore his doublet's throat
And thrust his trembling hand into his breast.
A moment thus he stood while o'er his face
There spread an infinite astonishment
That gradually congealed to numbing fear;
A weakness seized his limbs and pulled him down.
"The ring!" he gasped. "The ring that Odin gave!
The ring that guards my life and brings success!
'Tis gone! I've lost it! I have lost my ring!"
Then as he sat, the Lion of the North,
His great head bowed between his mighty hands,
There stole into the tent a filmy mist;
It thickened and became a heavy fog
That, rolling on before the damp South Wind,
Hung o'er the field of Lutzen like a pall
And stole between the king and all his lords
Until he seemed a shadow of himself,
A dim, gigantic ghost that wept and wept,
And muttered ceaselessly, "My ring, my ring."





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