The Outcast: A Monologue (Classic Reprint) - Hardcover

Inhaltsangabe

Excerpt from The Outcast: A Monologue

YE have asked me, my gentle Brothers, Why my soul is dark to-night, And I pace to and fro the Cloisters In this. Dim uncertain light. Shall I tell ye a story, Brothers? It may serve to while the time 'twixt the close of our Meditation And the tardy Curfew-chime. Well ye know that my lays grow rusty And my legends, too, wax old, Saving one, which I scarce may tell ye Lest your warm young blood run cold. 'tis no ballad of tilt or tourney, No idyll of joust and field With its ring of the jewelled gauntlets Or clash of the lance and shield. 'tis no Song for the lips of minstrels.

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