Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.
King Witlafs Drinking-Horn
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (18071882)W
Ere yet his last he breathed,
To the merry monks of Croyland
His drinking-horn bequeathed,—
And drank from the golden bowl,
They might remember the donor,
And breathe a prayer for his soul.
And bade the goblet pass;
In their beards the red wine glistened
Like dew-drops in the grass.
They drank to Christ the Lord,
And to each of the Twelve Apostles,
Who had preached his holy word.
Of the dismal days of yore,
And as soon as the horn was empty
They remembered one saint more.
Like the murmur of many bees,
The legend of good Saint Guthlac,
And Saint Basil’s homilies;
From their prison in the tower,
Guthlac and Bartholomæus,
Proclaimed the midnight hour.
And the abbot bowed his head,
And the flamelets flapped and flickered,
But the abbot was stark and dead.
He clutched the golden bowl,
In which, like a pearl dissolving,
Had sunk and dissolved his soul.
The jovial monks forbore;
For they cried, “Fill high the goblet!
We must drink to one saint more!”