Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
The Belfry of Bruges and Other PoemsThe Norman Baron
I
Was the Norman baron lying;
Loud, without, the tempest thundered,
And the castle-turret shook.
Spite of vassal and retainer,
And the lands his sires had plundered,
Written in the Doomsday Book.
Who in humble voice repeated
Many a prayer and pater-noster,
From the missal on his knee;
Sounds of bells came faintly stealing,
Bells, that from the neighboring kloster
Rang for the Nativity.
Held, that night, their Christmas wassail
Many a carol, old and saintly,
Sang the minstrels and the waits;
Sang to slaves the songs of freemen,
That the storm was heard but faintly,
Knocking at the castle-gates.
Reached the chamber terror-haunted,
Where the monk, with accents holy,
Whispered at the baron’s ear.
As he paused awhile and listened,
And the dying baron slowly
Turned his weary head to hear.
Born and cradled in a manger!
King, like David, priest, like Aaron,
Christ is born to set us free!”
Figures on the casement painted,
And exclaimed the shuddering baron,
“Miserere, Domine!”
He beheld, with clearer vision,
Through all outward show and fashion,
Justice, the Avenger, rise.
Falsehood and deceit were banished,
Reason spake more loud than passion,
And the truth wore no disguise.
Every serf born to his manor,
All those wronged and wretched creatures,
By his hand were freed again.
He recorded their dismissal,
Death relaxed his iron features,
And the monk replied, “Amen!”
Since in death the baron slumbered
By the convent’s sculptured portal,
Mingling with the common dust:
Living in historic pages,
Brighter grows and gleams immortal,
Unconsumed by moth or rust.