Come Young Pirates, In The High Chamber Of The Queen's Tower, Part X X I Poem by Captain Cur

In the high chamber of the Queen's tower
I sat chained by Her Majesty's power
Alone in this spiraling mortared fort
Her Highness in her gold and velvet court.
Could I discern the problem or the blame
That reaped itself, the crime and I the same!
A scurrying spider my boredom scanned
Attending to its web, well armed and manned,
For any new visitor soon to meet
With tiny fangs as a welcoming treat,
Its clever body would pulse, bounce and raid
Entwining intersections of the glaze
And its prey might sue for some small relief
As for insects, all are raised as thieves!
Till tomorrow, what torture it may bring
Tonight tapping tunes with my ankle ring
and slow along the wall the insect crept
I and the spider, both mightily slept.

Whence had my criminality begun
On paths of chaos before my journey done.
If no repentance I would show with time
Time would mock me for my every crime,
Lacking true piety as the rose is stemmed
Petals that have fallen remain condemned
An outlaw when I skimmed the frothy deep
A gentleman when I walked an English street.

The maggots come, but find no mercy here,
On barren trees dead fruit and leaf laid bare,
A promise then, this feeling wrenched from pain
When life is lost there's nothing more to gain.
Tomorrow then, tomorrow's yet begun
My flaming heart impaled upon its sun
Wasted before the rise of early morn
That struck today, this deadly blow was borne;
On that sun I shall agonize in thirst,
Welcome torment, the longest and the worst,
Famished birds, vultures prey around that stake
My will is bound, no hands to shield my face.
Just a drop! My head that turns denies!
Just a drop! Believing if I drink I die!
The leech is full gnawing on marrow bone
Better maggots than to die this way alone.

Breathing in seamless risings of my breath
The last outward blow clinging fast to death
But, then she came reopening the past
And each next breath more stronger than the last,
And flowing neath her robes an unsung grace
Though older now, great wisdom lined her face;
Those piercing eyes that once from me were hid
Bestowing light where light had never been,
Insufferable as a truthful pain
A room of mirrors views and views again
Where all of beauty sees itself as fair
But from that mirror just an empty glare.
Soft wafting sounds, the fall of slippered feet
Those captive stones had waited years to greet
Femininity, immortalized youth,
From in her heart there shone that queenly proof
By sight all I possess deem not compare
To touch but a single lock of whitened hair.

A calming ease descended on my breast
As sickness quiets a soul in need of rest,
In my mind I queried, 'How came she here; '
For answer, 'Nothing woman will not dare! '
On her the weight of all my sins were bore
In judgment of the man I was before
Now turned by evil what I had become
Redemption pays a cheap and paltry sum.
When on the sea though lost I found my way
By stars I knew and patterns I obeyed
If on my sails the dying winds should blow
To navigate death, this I cannot know,
Upon the swinging of that one way door
Salvation or destruction's stormy shore,
Such festivities my noose or garrote bring
From this tower, life's final bell may ring.

What ointment mends the stricken womb of fate
To aid or deny a wounded man's escape
From the solitude of a loathsome sleep
Insincerity all his ducts can weep.
Who elevates this man, holds his life dear
With hammering's of the scaffold pining near
To each man a debt one or more may owe
Perhaps from a friend or a deadly foe.
How long to hope before his mind may break
Lying on cold stones for hours awake,
That hope, that beam of pure dazzling light
At first seems dubious then growing bright,
Movement, shuffling, the clanging of the chain
Holding one thought that he may live again,
Each breath a breath of sweet fresh golden air
Even his jailer seeming wondrous fair.

'Pirate! Thou knowest thy Queen, thy only one,
For thy deeds to answer, I myself have come,
Now look upon me and my blessed hand
Bearing my signet and my royal band.
A handsome treasure thou has claimed to hide,
Speak! To be set free or to hang and die.'