A BALLAD OF A SHIELD by COSMO MONKHOUSE

It was all of a shield on a tree,
Hung high so that passers might see;
From the South it shone forth
Like gold; from the North
It was silver as silver could be.

And this is the tale that it told
Of a fight that was foughten of old
By Sir Hugh, who had seen
But its silvery sheen,
And sir Arthur, who swore it was gold.

They met with their lances in rest,
And a shock that had shaken the best.
Sir Arthur was sound
As he leapt from the ground,
But Sir Hugh had a dint in the breast.

Then neither spake ever a word,
But out from the scabbard the sword;
And the blade of Sir Hugh
Found a little way through,
And Sir Arthur was down on the sward.

Sir Arthur declared it was well,
But a pang, like a torture of hell,
Smit Sir Hugh at the sight
Of the blood-dappled knight,
And then he, too, staggered and fell.

But now, in the fight they had crost,
And they looked through the boughs as they tost,
When gold on the blue
Was the shield to Sir Hugh,
To Sir Arthur as silver as frost.

Then neither could speak if he tried,
But each stretched an arm from his side, --
With a smile on the lip,
And the ghost of a grip,
They loved one another and died.

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