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| LAST summer I Columbused John, in Prague, that deadly Bush League town— | |
| I’d quit ’em cold on pictures and cathedrals for awhile. | |
| I hung around for Ma and Sis (Good Lord, there wasn’t one they’d miss— | |
| Pale martyrs till you couldn’t sleep, Madonnas by the mile!) | |
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| I read some dope in Baedeker about a tablet on the bridge, | 5 |
| And how they slipped this poor old scout the double cross for fair. | |
| I’m off high-brow historic truck, but Father John of Nepomuc, | |
| You must admit he was the goods. Believe me, he was there! | |
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| The king was Wenzel Number Four. John was sky-pilot for the court. | |
| King gets a hunch that Mrs. King has something on her mind. | 10 |
| He goes to sleuthing more and more. He says, “Gadzooks! I’ll have their gore!” | |
| (Don’t ever let ’em string you on that bunk that love is blind!) | |
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| The queen—I’ll bet she was some queen—she tangoes blithely on her way. | |
| She fails to see the storm clouds on her regal husband’s dome. | |
| I got him guessed, that Wenzel guy harpoons a girl that’s young and spry, | 15 |
| And tries to seal her up for life in the Old Peoples’ Home! | |
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| The way I had it figured out she married him to please her folks: | |
| “Our son-in-law, the Kink, you know!” (Some speed! I guess that’s poor?) | |
| So, when she sights a Maiden’s Dream—some real live wire that’s made the team, | |
| Well, she sits up and notices, like any girl. Why, sure! | 20 |
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| Old Wenzel can’t quite cinch the case, but what he doesn’t know, he thinks. | |
| The lump he calls a heart congeals beneath his fancy vest. | |
| He sends for poor old Father John and says as follows:—“I am on! | |
| I merely lack a few details! What hath the queen confessed?” | |
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| He holds the court upon the bridge. “Speak up,” he says, or otherwise | 25 |
| These spears shall thrust you down to death! Come through! I am the king! | |
| Kick in! What did my spouse confess?” The queen sends frantic S. O. S…. | |
| Maybe I sort of dozed, but well—here’s how I got this thing … | |
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| He saw the startled courtiers, straining their ears; | |
| He saw the white queen swaying, striving to stand; | 30 |
| He saw the soldiers tensely gripping their spears, | |
| Waiting the king’s command: | |
| He heard small page drawing a sobbing breath; | |
| He heard a bird’s call, poignant and sweet and low; | |
| He heard the rush of the river, spelling death, | 35 |
| Mocking him, down below. | |
| But he only said, “My liege, | |
| To my honor you lay siege, | |
| And that fortress you can never overthrow.” | |
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| He thought of how he had led them, all the years; | 40 |
| He thought of how he had served them, death and birth; | |
| He thought of healing their hates, stilling their fears … | |
| Humbly, he weighed his worth. | |
| He knew he was leaving them, far from the goal; | |
| He knew, with a deep joy, it was safe … and wise. | 45 |
| He knew that now the pale queen’s pitiful soul | |
| Would awake, and arise. | |
| And he only said, “My king, | |
| Every argument you bring | |
| Merely sets my duty forth in sterner guise.” | 50 |
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| He felt the spears’ points, merciless, thrust him down; | |
| He felt the exquisite, fierce glory of pain; | |
| He felt the bright waves eager, reaching to drown, | |
| Engulf him, body and brain. | |
| He sensed cries, faint and clamorous, far behind; | 55 |
| He sensed cool peace, and the buoyant arms of love; | |
| He sensed like a beacon, clear, beckoning, kind, | |
| Five stars, floating above … | |
| To the ones who watched it seemed | |
| That he slept … and smiled … and dreamed. | 60 |
| “And the waters were abated … and the dove.” | |
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| And there I was on that old bridge—boob freshman me, on that same bridge! | |
| The lazy river hummed and purred, and sang a sleepy song. | |
| Of course, I know it listens queer, but, gad, it was so real and near, | |
| I stood there basking in the sun for goodness knows how long. | 65 |
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| Sometimes I see it even now. I see that little, lean old saint | |
| Put up against the shining spears his simple nerve and pluck: | |
| And once, by Jove, you know, he came right down beside me in the game … | |
| We know who made the touchdown then, old John of Nepomuc! | |
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