Ezra Pound

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

Simon Zelotes speaketh it somewhile after the Crucifixion
             Ha’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all
             For the priests and the gallows tree?
             Aye lover he was of brawny men,
             O’ ships and the open sea.
 
             When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man
             His smile was good to see,
             “First let these go!” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
             “Or I’ll see ye damned,” says he.
 
             Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears
             And the scorn of his laugh rang free,
             “Why took ye not me when I walked about
             Alone in the town?” says he.
 
             Oh we drunk his “Hale” in the good red wine
             When we last made company,
             No capon priest was the Goodly Fere
             But a man o’ men was he.
 
             I ha’ seen him drive a hundred men
             Wi’ a bundle o’ cords swung free,
             That they took the high and holy house
             For their pawn and treasury.
 
             They’ss no’ get him a’ in a book I think
             Though they write it cunningly;
             No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere
             But aye loved the open sea.
 
             If they think they ha’ snared our Goodly Fere
             They are fools to the last degree.
             “I’ll go to the feast,” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
             “Though I go to the gallows tree.”
 
             “Ye ha’ seen me heal the lame and blind,
             And wake the dead,” says he,
             “Ye shall see one thing to master all:
             'Tis how a brave man dies on the tree.”
 
             A son of God was the Goodly Fere
             That bade us his brothers be.
             I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men.
             I have seen him upon the tree.
 
             He cried no cry when they drave the nails
             And the blood gushed hot and free,
             The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue
             But never a cry cried he.
 
             I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men
             On the hills o’ Galilee,
             They whined as he walked out calm between,
             Wi’ his eyes like the grey o’ the sea,
 
             Like the sea that brooks no voyaging
             With the winds unleashed and free,
             Like the sea he cowed at Genseret
             Wi’ twey words spoke’ suddently.
 
             A master of men was the Goodly Fere,
             A mate of the wind and sea,
             If they think they ha’ slain our Goodly Fere
             They are fools eternally.
 
             I ha’ seen him eat o’ the honey—comb
             Sin’ they nailed him to the tree.
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