The Ballad of the Quest.

by Virna Sheard.

THE BALLAD OF THE QUEST

"Some day," I said, "before Life is over, I will shut my house door, and will be a rover."

Under the sky where the great stars roll, I will search for my faith, and search for my soul.

I have fared without them this many a day Through the market-place of the world's high-way.

The truth I gave in exchange for a lie, And I bartered my dreams to a pa.s.ser-by.

I have met Delilah,--her enchantments I know As the man of strength knew them ages ago.

Fool's gold and fool's joy have been my reaping, And my heart has nothing that's worth the keeping.

But the world is wide and the world is free, And the things I have lost may come back to me.

I will follow the path of the bird that flies, And look for a woman with honest eyes.

If I travel hard, and travel alone, I may overtake Peace, and make it my own.

Only the Sun and the Moon's sweet light Shall mark my day, or measure my night.

Silks and satins and embroidered things, I'll exchange for blossoms and b.u.t.ter-flies' wings.

And under a thorn-hedge I will dine On a handful of berries, as red as wine.

Or I'll earn my bread on the out-bound ships, With the sun in my eyes, and salt on my lips.

And for the softness of beds and pillows, I'll take a hammock that swings with the billows.

It may be the trail will lead me afar To mountain paths, where the wild sheep are.

Or with simple people, and free from guile, I will pitch my tent and will rest awhile.

I am weary of softness and things of ease, And weary of Scribes, and of Pharisees.

On a morning road where the wind is strong, I may learn again to whistle a song.

Down forest paths, or the ways of the sea, My soul and my faith may come back to me.

And always and ever beneath the skies, I will look for a woman with honest eyes.

I will follow no will at all but my own, And the road I take I will take alone.

"Some day," I said, "before Life is over, I will shut my house door, and will be a rover."

II

But the day when it came was a troubled day, And the road I took was a troubled way.

Then never a will I had of my own, And never a step did I travel alone.

We marched by day, and we marched by night, Through the Sun's hot gold, or the Moon's cool light.

We marched with laughter, we marched with song, Or in dreadful silence we marched along.

The man at my right cursed low at his fate, The man at my left smiled early and late.

And the faces I saw at the edge of day, Were young, young faces, turned old and grey.

The field where poppies flashed red in the wheat, Was a h.e.l.l we tramped through on stumbling feet.

I forgot I had said "before Life is over, I will shut my house door, and will be a rover."

Out on the roads where the guns took toll I gave little heed to my faith, or my soul.

In the trenches where only the dead could rest, Life was a candle-flame--Death was a jest.

The stars swung round in a blood-red sky, And the earth was red where the men reeled by.

I laughed--for I was living and strong,-- And I tossed them the line of a battle song.

May-day came in,--but the sweet o' the Spring,-- Who should know there was any such thing?

For the lovers were gone, who used to know The English lanes where the hawthorns blow--

And the lovers from lands far over the sea,-- Ah! The watching moon only, knew where they might be.

I shook my impotent hand at the sky, And travelled on with a battle cry.

III

On a desperate night--bitter black with pain,-- My soul returned to haunt me again.

We two kept vigil till break of day, But the moon bore witness, I did not pray.

I dreamt I drifted with a name on my lips, Where the clouds were sea waves, and the stars little ships.

I dreamt,--and lay on the sh.e.l.l-bitten sod, Like a thing that had been forgotten of G.o.d.

I saw the smoke of the battle roll Over many a swift departing soul,--