A Game of Chess

Upon a fine and dew be-kisséd morn

I went unto my master and, forlorn,

I bid him teach me how to play the game

Of chess.

He, answering, said to me: “When you are old

Enough to learn, I’ll give that weighty gold.”

These words he spoke, methought, to bring me shame,

Not truth.

And then when once the sun at height did blaze,

And I had married and liv’d many days,

I did once more approach my master there

For chess.

At once: “Have you yet learned the game?” he cried,

“How should I,” I replied, “without a guide?”

He shook his head: “Too young to have such cares,

Forsooth.”

And then upon a grim and silent eve,

My master died; and I too died—they grieve

Who yet remain. Let them! For he and I

Play chess.