Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OWAIN MILLS: OWAIN'S VISIT TO PARADISE, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

OWAIN MILLS: OWAIN'S VISIT TO PARADISE, by                    
First Line: "the fiends, with them the knight they bear"
Last Line: To stand before thy face!
Subject(s): Purgatory


THE fiends, with them the knight they bear,
To a foul-smelling water fare,
Such as he ne'er had seen;
Fouler it smelt than any hound,
And deep for many a mile its ground,
And black as pitch, I ween.

Sir Owain saw across it lie
A narrow bridge, both strong and high,
The fiends they spake also;
"Behold, Sir Knight, before thee lies
The bridge that leads to Paradise,
Across it must thou go.

"And after thee we stones shall throw,
And strong winds shall upon thee blow,
And work thee mickle ill;
Scarce shalt thou go half-way, withal,
But if midway thou chance to fall,
Thou fallest to our will.

"And when thou thus adown shalt fall
Thou comest 'midst our comrades all,
With hooks they shall thee speed;
A new play teach to thee alway,
For thou hast served us many a day,
To Hell they shall thee lead."

Owain beheld that bridge uplift,
The water 'neath it, black and swift,
And dread, it vexed him sore,
And of one thing he took good note,
Thick as the motes in sunbeam float,
The fiends, they were yet more!

High as a tower that bridge should be,
And sharp as razor, verilie,
Narrow it was, also,
With that, the stream that ran thereunder,
It gleamed as lightning, roared like thunder,
That did he hold for woe!

There is no clerk may write with ink,
And never man in heart may think,
Nor master may attain,
Diviner's skill may naught devise
Beneath that bridge of Paradise
To tell one half the pain.

So the Dominical doth tell,
There is the entrance gate of Hell,
Saint Paul, he witness bore,
Who from that bridge doth fall so low,
Redemption may he never know,
Or less, I trow, or more!

The fiends, the knight they threaten there,
"Across this bridge thou may'st not fare,
How sore soe'er thy need,
Flee thou this peril, grief, and woe,
And to that place thou comest fro'
Right gladly we'll thee lead."

Sir Owain, he bethought him there
How oft, from out the foul fiends' snare,
God had him safely sped,
He set his foot upon the bridge,
Felt of the razor no sharp ridge,
Nor aught to cause him woe.

But when the fiends they saw that he
Half-way across the bridge should be
Loudly they cry and call:
"Alas! that e'er he saw the light,
For now we sure have lost this knight,
He hath escaped our thrall!"

Thus Owain, o'er the bridge he went,
Gave thanks to God Omnipotent,
And Mary, full of grace,
Who thus had deigned his way to speed,
And, from the foul fiends' torment freed,
Brought to a better place.

A cloth of gold to him was brought,
But of its coming saw he naught,
Save God had sent that same;
That cloth he did on him that stound,
And whole and healed the wounds he found
Wrought by the fire's fierce flame.

Then thanked he God in Trinitie,
And, looking further, thought to see
E'en as it were a wall;
He looked about him far and nigh,
But never end he might espy,
Of gold it shone withal.

And further -- more he needs must see,
A gate, none fairer might there be
In all this world, well wrought;
Of wood or iron there was none,
'T was all red gold, and precious stone,
And all God made of naught!

Of Jasper, Coral, Topaz bright,
Of Pearls so pure and Crystal white,
And of rich Sapphire stone,
Ruby and Onyx might he see,
Chrysoprase, and Chalcedony,
And Diamonds brightly shone.

In tabernacles were they wrought,
Richer, I trow, had ye found naught,
Slender the pillars small;
Curved arches of carbuncle stone,
And red-gold bosses wrought thereon,
Turrets of crystal all.

E'en as Our Lord surpasseth still
Of goldsmith, or of artist's skill,
Seek where ye will in land;
So are the gates of Paradise
Fairer than mortal may devise
As ye may understand.

E'en as the gates themselves unclose
So sweet a perfume forth there flows
As precious balm and dear,
The knight was of that sweetness fain,
And drew such strength from it again
As ye shall forthwith hear.

It seemed such strength to him were told
He well might bear a thousand-fold
More of such woe and pain;
That he, against the fiends to fight,
Might well have turned him back forthright
The road he came again.

The knight, he drew the gate anear,
And see, there came with goodly cheer,
Processions fair anon,
Tapers, and candlesticks of gold,
Fairer no man might see on mold,
With Cross, and Gonfanon.

And Popes, in dignity they go,
And many Cardinals also,
And Kings and Queens were there,
And Knights, and Abbots, many Priors,
With Canons, Monks, and preaching Friars,
Bishops, who croziers bare.

Friars Minor, and Friars Jacobin,
And Carmelites, and Friars Austin,
And Nuns, both black and white,
All manner of religious there
Did in that great procession fare
Who Orders took aright.

There Wedlock's order did he see;
Of men and women many be
Who thanked God for His Grace,
Who sent the knight the aid he sought,
And from the foul fiends' torment brought
A live man, to this place.

When they had made this melody
There came two from the company
And palms of gold they bare,
And straightway to the knight they hied,
And took him, one on either side,
Archbishops both they were;

And up and down they led that knight
And many a joy they shewed to sight
And mickle melody;
Merry the carols he must hear,
Nor songs of folly met his ear
But joy and minstrelsy.

They danced in carols all a-row,
Their joy, I trow, may no man know,
Of God they spake, and sung,
And angels set the measure free
With cithole, harp, and psaltery,
And bells that merry rung.

And none may carol there within
Save that he be all clean of sin
And from all folly free;
Now God, for these, Thy Five Wounds all,
Grant us to carol in that hall
Thro' Thy Mother, Marie!

And this same joy, as ye may see,
It is for love and charitie,
Towards God, and towards man's kin,
Whoso forsaketh earthly love
For love of God, Who reigns above,
May carol there within.

And other joys he saw enow;
Perched on high trees, with many a bough,
The birds of Heaven rejoice;
Their notes ring out with merry glee,
In many a changeful melody
On high they lift their voice!

And, hearkening to the birds' sweet song,
He deemed he might abide there long,
Yea, till the world should end;
There he beheld that Tree of Life
Whereby both Adam and his wife
To Hell they needs must wend.

Gardens with flowers of diverse hue,
The rose, the lily, there he knew
Primrose and periwink;
Mint, fetherfoy, and eglantine,
'Mid other flowers, and columbine,
More than a man may think.

And herbs be there of other kind
Than here on earth a man may find
And e'en the least of price
For ever waxeth green, I wot,
With changing season, changeth not,
Sweeter than liquorice!

And many a well he there must know,
Sweeter than mead their waters flow,
But one above them all,
E'en as Saint Owain did behold,
From thence, the stream it runs four-fold,
From Paradise doth fall.

And Dison, so men call one stream,
Its waters flow with brightest gleam,
And gold therein is found;
Fison, the second named shall be,
And of more value, verilie,
The stones within its ground.

The third stream shall Euphrates be --
Without a lie I say to ye
Its course it runs aright;
The fourth stream, it is hight Tigris,
Nor hath the world the like, I wis,
Of these, its stones so bright.

Who lives in purity below
This bliss he shall as portion know
And see that seemly sight;
Yet more did Owain see with eye
Beneath God's Glory, there on high,
Blessed shall be His Might!

Some souls, he saw, dwelt by themselves,
Others by ten, or e'en by twelve,
But each one knew the other,
When they together came, I wis,
Then they rejoiced in mickle bliss,
As sister doth with brother.

And some, they were in scarlet clad,
Fair robes of purple others had,
And some in ciclaton,
E'en as the priest at Mass doth wear
Thus alb and tunicle they bare,
Some, cloth of gold had on.

And thus, I trow, full well the knight
By this, their clothing, knew aright
E'en in what state they were,
And what the deeds they erst did do,
(By that he saw them clothed so)
While they 'midst men did fare.

Here will I a resemblance tell,
The same, in truth, accordeth well,
E'en by the stars so bright,
As one star brighter is to see
Than others, yea, perchance, than three,
And is of greater might,

So God, He dealeth in this wise
E'en with the Bliss of Paradise,
Deals not the same to all,
The Soul who hath the least, I wot
Doth think the greater is his lot,
Doth hold him rich withal!

The Bishops came to him again,
They took the knight betwixt them twain,
And led him up and down,
Said: "Brother, God be praised by thee,
This, thy desire fulfilled shall be,
Hearken our words anon,

"Now thou, with these, thine eyes, hast seen
Alike the joys and pains, I ween,
For that, praise God, His Grace,
We'll tell thee here the common doom,
The way that thou hast hither come
Ere yet thou leave this place.

"That land thou sawest full of sorrow,
Alike to-day, and eke to-morrow,
The which thou passed'st by,
Wherein didst suffer pain and woe,
With many another soul also,
Men call it Purgatory.

"And this same land so fair and wide,
That mickle is on every side
And is so full of bliss,
Wherein thou even now shalt be,
And where thou many a joy dost see,
'T is Paradise I wis!

"And never man may hither win
Save that he first be purged of sin,
And be well cleansed then,
Then come they here --" the Bishop said,
"By us unto these joys they're led
At times, by twelve or ten.

"But some, they be so straitly bound,
That men know not how long a stound
They suffer in that heat,
Save that their friends on earth who be
Sing Mass for them -- of charitie
Shall give the poor to eat;

"Or other wise shall do alms-deed,
By which they may the better speed,
And these, their torments, cease,
And come to Paradise, I wis,
Wherein is ever joy and bliss,
And there abide in peace.

"And as from Purgatory's pain
We pass, so do we rise again
To God, in Glory's height,
That is the Heavenly Paradise,
Beheld by none but Christian eyes,
No joy is like that sight!

"And when we passed from out the flame
Of Purgatory, here we came,
We may not scale that height,
(Till that we here long time have been
God's Face by us may not be seen --)
Nor in that place alight!

"The child who was but born last night
Ere his soul hither shall be dight
Those pains shall over flee;
Heavy and strong the torment told
To that man who is waxen old
And long in sin shall be."

Forth went they till, before their eye,
There rose a mountain fair and high
And full of game and glee;
So long upon their way they passed
They came unto its top at last
Where they these joys might see.

There diverse songs the birdlings sung,
Great joy they made themselves among,
As ye may understand,
More joy in these birds' trill shall be
Than cithole, harp, or psaltery,
Heard here, on sea or land.

That land that is so good withal
'T is Paradise terrestrial,
On earth it lieth fair;
The Heavenly Paradise, I wis,
No bliss is like unto its bliss,
That is above the air.

In that which hath on earth its place
Therein was Owain for a space,
'T was that which Adam lost,
Had Adam there but held him still
And wrought according to God's Will,
Ne'er His commandment crost,

He, nor his offspring, trow me, ne'er
From out that bliss were forced to fare,
But, since that same he brake,
With pick and spade in ditch to delve,
To help his wife, and eke himself,
Much toil God made him take.

God was, I trow, with him so wroth,
He left unto him ne'er a cloth,
But leaf of a fig-tree,
All naked there he went, and stood,
I trow a man might well nigh wood
At such a counsel be.

An Angel there unto him came
With aspect stern, and sword of flame,
Fear in his soul had birth,
That they should toil and sorrow know,
The while that they must live below
Drave them to middle-earth.

And when he died he went to Hell, --
To him and his this portion fell
Till God's own Son was born,
And by His Pain and Passion sore
Hath opened wide that prison door,
Else were we all forlorn.

. . . . . . . .

(Lacuna, in MS.)

The Bishops then the knight did pray
To tell them there without delay
If Heaven were grey or white,
Or blue, or yellow, red or green?
The knight, he answered them, I ween,
"That shall I say forthright.

"Methinks, it be a thousand-fold
Brighter than e'er was any gold
That man with eye might see!"
Then quoth the Bishops to the knight:
"That self-same place ye deem so bright
Shall but the entrance be.

"And each day it doth so befall
A meal, to make us glad withal,
Doth come for this, our need;
E'en a sweet smell, as of all good
That to our soul is fitting food,
Stay, and with us shalt feed."

Anon, he saw right well, the knight,
A flame of fire that sprang so bright,
From Heaven's gate it fell,
It seemed him there that, far and nigh,
O'er Paradise that flame did fly
And gave so sweet a smell;

The Holy Ghost, as flame so bright,
Did there upon Sir Owain light,
And in that self-same place,
By Virtue of that flame alway
The might of earth was purged away --
He thanked God for His Grace.

Then quoth the Bishops in that stead:
"God feeds us daily with His Bread
Yet we be not so nigh
Nor have such foretaste of His Grace
Nor such a sight of this, His Face,
As those that be on high.

"The souls who to God's Feast have passed
Their joy, it shall for ever last,
And never know an end;
Now must thou dree the common doom,
And by the road that thou didst come
Again thou needs must wend.

"Now keep thee well from deadly sin,
That thou shalt never fall therein
Whate'er shall be thy need;
Then at thy death-day shalt thou wend
Unto the joy that hath no end,
Angels shall thither lead."

Then sore he wept, Sir Owain, there,
And for God's Mercy prayed them fair
That he with them might dwell,
And that he might behold no more
That sight that he had seen before,
The bitter pains of Hell.

But this, his prayer, was all in vain, --
He took his leave, and turned again,
His heart was full of woe,
Ten thousand fiends he saw that stead,
But from before his face they fled
As bolt from a cross-bow.

No nearer than a bolt might fly
I trow, the fiends might come anigh
Tho' they the world would win,
And when he came unto the hall
The thirty men he found withal
Awaiting him therein.

Each held his hand up in that place,
Gave thanks to Christ for this, His Grace,
More than a thousand-fold,
Bade him make no delaying there
But back again to Ireland fare,
Swift on his way to hold.

So I find writ in history,
The Prior of Patrick's Purgatory,
To him came word that night,
That Owain had o'ercome his pain,
And with the morrow came again
Thro' grace of God's great Might.

Then with his monks, the Prior anon,
With Crosses, and with Gonfanon,
Went to that hole forthright,
Thro' which knight Owain went below,
There, as of burning fire the glow,
They saw a gleam of light;

And right amidst that beam of light
He came up, Owain, God's own knight,
By this knew every man
That he in Paradise had been,
And Purgatory's pains had seen,
And was a holy man.

To Holy Church they take their way
To work the works of God that day
There he his prayer doth make,
And on the fifteenth day, at end,
The knight upon his way would wend,
And staff and scrip did take;

And then the Holy places sought
Where Jesus Christ us dearly bought
Upon the Rood's rough Tree;
Where from the grave He rose alive
By Virtue of these same Wounds Five,
Yea, blessed may He be!

And Bethlehem, where Christ was born
Of Mary Maid, as flower from thorn,
And where He rose to Heaven;
Sithen to Ireland came anon,
There a monk's habit did he on,
And lived for years full seven.

And when he died he went, I wis,
To Paradise, with joy and bliss,
Thro' help of God's good Grace;
Now God, for good Saint Owain's love
Grant us in bliss of Heaven above
To stand before Thy Face!





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