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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Lady in the Tower</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some years long since, though best forgot<br>I travelled to a country squire, <br>I'd not seen him since Grammar School<br>We'd shared those years of learning, dire! <br>But as young men we'd grown apart<br>For he had titles, grounds to claim<br>While I was just a journeyman, <br>My friend, his name was Daniel Crane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He owned most of the Bailiwick<br>And lived alone in quiet content, <br>His home was known as Motte House<br>The moat as dry as tongues in Lent, <br>The carriage took me to his step<br>Where he had waited long for me, <br>And we had laughed in merriment<br>Old friends, to see how changed were we.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The house, a rambling Tudor style<br>Had more rooms than a grand hotel, <br>He showed me to a guest room, then<br>Went down and rang the dinner bell.<br>I laughed to see the platter laid<br>By his own hand, the cook had left, <br>We dined on beef, potatoes mashed, <br>And drenched down with some vinaigrette.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For wine, he favoured Hock at first<br>Then claret, we disposed of that, <br>So when the plates were empty, he<br>Went down to fetch the Port, a vat! <br>We tapped it off, grew merrier<br>Stormed up and down the ancient hall<br>Reciting verse, our favourite<br>'Childe Harold' was the first recalled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Byron was in London then, <br>A lion, there at Holland House, <br>With Lady Caro William<br>His scandals multiplied so fast, <br>We roared at passages of verse<br>Assailing poor virginity, <br>And drank his health, that he'd be worse<br>We felt our consanguinity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'You have not married yet, I see, '<br>I mentioned to my friend at last, <br>He shook his head, looked moody, <br>And I hastened then to fill his glass.<br>By midnight, with a looser tongue<br>He told me what had caused his pain<br>And I grew troubled as he spoke<br>His darkness then, did Daniel Crane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Up on the hill a castle stood<br>With crenellated towers and keep, <br>We looked up from the balcony<br>To see it grim, and dark and bleak, <br>A light shone in the topmost tower<br>A faint but flickered candlelight, <br>'It's there the girl that once I loved<br>Is locked and chained, kept out of sight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I held my breath at this, and saw<br>A glint of tear at either eye, <br>He turned to go inside, his face<br>Averted, though I heard him sigh; <br>'The Baron Fitzwulf mutters there, <br>As crazy as a lord may be, <br>He has the syphilis, I heard, <br>His line, back to infinity.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'His daughter Joan, I played with once<br>When still a child, ' - (I barely stirred) , <br>'Played 'catch' out in the summer months<br>Among the butterflies, and birds; <br>She'd laugh and chase me for a kiss, <br>A forward wench, she led the play, <br>Got down and lent her body there<br>We'd tumble in the new mown hay.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But she was just turned seventeen<br>Her mother died, brought on her cares, <br>They say the Baron pushed her there, <br>She tumbled down a flight of stairs.<br>Her neck was broken, instant death, <br>And Joan distraught beyond belief, <br>I showed up at the funeral, <br>And once they'd gone, I laid a wreath.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I never saw my Joan again, <br>They said she raved, had gone insane, <br>Some doctor they had brought for her<br>Said it was humours of the brain.<br>He locked her in that dingy tower<br>The one they call the Battle Keep, <br>I often hear her cry out loud<br>On nights I find it hard to sleep.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd been there just a week, and then<br>I heard a piercing cry one night<br>Like all the demons fled from hell<br>Pursued her in the candlelight, <br>'You can't go on like this, ' I said, <br>As Daniel tore his hair, and cried; <br>'My God, I can't! ' he said, and then<br>'I'll free her first, make her my bride! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night the moon went in behind<br>A stormcloud, and the rain came down, <br>We donned our coats, and took some tools<br>And walked across the rolling down.<br>The Castle stood, its shadow formed<br>An inky blackness, lost to sight, <br>And there we found the servants' door<br>And gained admittance in the night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stairway was of rotted stone, <br>One foot askance and we were lost, <br>We mounted slowly up the keep<br>The prize above would pay the cost; <br>The door was triple locked and barred, <br>We cut the chain and burst the lock, <br>When from within we heard a growl<br>Like some dread beast, chained to a rock.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The door flew wide, and in he went<br>His arms outstretched to claim his love, <br>I caught a glimpse of her, untamed, <br>She flew at him, arms raised above, <br>But then she slashed and tore at him<br>And screamed her hatred in his face, <br>'If not for you, my mother dear<br>Would still be living in this place! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She ripped his throat wide open then, <br>He fell, and bled all on the floor, <br>I caught and bound her in the chain<br>We'd taken from the prison door; <br>The Baron came, and tore his hair<br>'I thought that it might come to this! <br>I saved her from the hangman when<br>She pushed her mother down the stairs.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was no saving her again, <br>The magistrates took her away<br>I stood and watched at Newgate when<br>They launched her to eternity; <br>Her mother had forbade the match, <br>Joan pushed her then, in rage and pain, <br>And blamed him then; he never knew, <br>My friend who loved her, Daniel Crane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">5 May 2009</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365954" data-title="The Lady in the Tower de David Lewis Paget" data-description="Some years long since, though best forgot
I travelled to a country squire, 
I'd not seen him since Grammar School
We'd shared those years of learning, dire! 
But as young men we'd grown apart
For he had titles, grounds to claim
While I was just a ..."></div>
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