Men say, at night, around the castle-keep The black air ruffles neath the outstretched vans Of a long flying worm, whose sinewy tail And leather pinions beat the parted sky Scudding with puddered clouds and black as soot, And ever and again a shuddering cry Mounts on the wind, a cry of pain and loss, And whirls in the wind’s screaming and is gone. Men say, that to the Lords of Lusignan On their death’s day appointed comes a Thing, Half sable serpent, half a mourning Queen Crowned and thick-veiled. Then they cross themselves And make their peace with Heaven’s blessed King And with a cry of pain she vanishes, Unable, so they say, to hear that Name, Forever banished from the hope of Heaven. The old nurse says, within the castle-keep The innocent boys slept in each other’s arms To keep away the chill from hearts and limbs. And in the dead of night a slender hand Would part the hangings, and lift sleepy forms To curl and suck the mother’s milky breasts As they had dreamed they did, and all the while Warm tears in silence mingled with the milk In dreaming mouths combining sweet and salt, So that they smile for warmth, and weep for loss, And waking, hope and fear to dream again.
