گودایوا (به انگلیسی: Godiva) نام شعری است که شاعر انگلیسی، آلفرد تنیسون آن را در ۱۸۴۲ و بر مبنای داستان بانو گودایوا سرود. بانو گودایوا (پیرامون ۹۸۰ - ۱۰۶۷) بانویی آنگلوساکسون بود که بنا بر افسانهها، پس از آنکه شوهرش به او قول داد که اگر بپذیرد برهنه در خیابانهای کاونتری در انگلستان اسب بتازد او نیز مالیاتهای سختگیرانهای را که بر مستأجرینش اعمال کرده خواهد بخشید این شرط شوهرش را پذیرفت و برهنه سوار بر اسب در خیابانهای شهر اسب تاخت.
اینک متن شعر به انگلیسی در زیر آورده شده است:
I waited for the train at Coventry;I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge,To watch the three tall spires; and there I shapedThe city's ancient legend into this:Not only we, the latest seed of Time,New men, that in the flying of a wheelCry down the past, not only we, that prateOf rights and wrongs, have loved the people well,And loathed to see them overtax'd; but sheDid more, and underwent, and overcame,The woman of a thousand summers back,Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruledIn Coventry: for when he laid a taxUpon his town, and all the mothers broughtTheir children, clamoring, "If we pay, we starve!"She sought her lord, and found him, where he strodeAbout the hall, among his dogs, alone,His beard a foot before him and his hairA yard behind. She told him of their tears,And pray'd him, "If they pay this tax, they starve."Whereat he stared, replying, half-amazed,"You would not let your little finger acheFor such as these?" -- "But I would die," said she.He laugh'd, and swore by Peter and by Paul;Then fillip'd at the diamond in her ear;"Oh ay, ay, ay, you talk!" -- "Alas!" she said,"But prove me what I would not do."And from a heart as rough as Esau's hand,He answer'd, "Ride you naked thro' the town,And I repeal it;" and nodding, as in scorn,He parted, with great strides among his dogs.So left alone, the passions of her mind,As winds from all the compass shift and blow,Made war upon each other for an hour,Till pity won. She sent a herald forth,And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet, allThe hard condition; but that she would looseThe people: therefore, as they loved her well,From then till noon no foot should pace the street,No eye look down, she passing; but that allShould keep within, door shut, and window barr'd.Then fled she to her inmost bower, and thereUnclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt,The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breathShe linger'd, looking like a summer moonHalf-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her head,And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee;Unclad herself in haste; adown the stairStole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam, slidFrom pillar unto pillar, until she reach'dThe Gateway, there she found her palfrey traptIn purple blazon'd with armorial gold.Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear.The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the spoutHad cunning eyes to see: the barking curMade her cheek flame; her palfrey's foot-fall shotLight horrors thro' her pulses; the blind wallsWere full of chinks and holes; and overheadFantastic gables, crowding, stared: but sheNot less thro' all bore up, till, last, she sawThe white-flower'd elder-thicket from the field,Gleam thro' the Gothic archway in the wall.Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity;And one low churl, compact of thankless earth,The fatal byword of all years to come,Boring a little auger-hole in fear,Peep'd -- but his eyes, before they had their will,Were shrivel'd into darkness in his head,And dropt before him. So the Powers, who waitOn noble deeds, cancell'd a sense misused;And she, that knew not, pass'd: and all at once,With twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless noonWas clash'd and hammer'd from a hundred towers,One after one: but even then she gain'dHer bower; whence reissuing, robed and crown'd,To meet her lord, she took the tax awayAnd built herself an everlasting name.
اینک متن شعر به انگلیسی در زیر آورده شده است:
I waited for the train at Coventry;I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge,To watch the three tall spires; and there I shapedThe city's ancient legend into this:Not only we, the latest seed of Time,New men, that in the flying of a wheelCry down the past, not only we, that prateOf rights and wrongs, have loved the people well,And loathed to see them overtax'd; but sheDid more, and underwent, and overcame,The woman of a thousand summers back,Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruledIn Coventry: for when he laid a taxUpon his town, and all the mothers broughtTheir children, clamoring, "If we pay, we starve!"She sought her lord, and found him, where he strodeAbout the hall, among his dogs, alone,His beard a foot before him and his hairA yard behind. She told him of their tears,And pray'd him, "If they pay this tax, they starve."Whereat he stared, replying, half-amazed,"You would not let your little finger acheFor such as these?" -- "But I would die," said she.He laugh'd, and swore by Peter and by Paul;Then fillip'd at the diamond in her ear;"Oh ay, ay, ay, you talk!" -- "Alas!" she said,"But prove me what I would not do."And from a heart as rough as Esau's hand,He answer'd, "Ride you naked thro' the town,And I repeal it;" and nodding, as in scorn,He parted, with great strides among his dogs.So left alone, the passions of her mind,As winds from all the compass shift and blow,Made war upon each other for an hour,Till pity won. She sent a herald forth,And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet, allThe hard condition; but that she would looseThe people: therefore, as they loved her well,From then till noon no foot should pace the street,No eye look down, she passing; but that allShould keep within, door shut, and window barr'd.Then fled she to her inmost bower, and thereUnclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt,The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breathShe linger'd, looking like a summer moonHalf-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her head,And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee;Unclad herself in haste; adown the stairStole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam, slidFrom pillar unto pillar, until she reach'dThe Gateway, there she found her palfrey traptIn purple blazon'd with armorial gold.Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear.The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the spoutHad cunning eyes to see: the barking curMade her cheek flame; her palfrey's foot-fall shotLight horrors thro' her pulses; the blind wallsWere full of chinks and holes; and overheadFantastic gables, crowding, stared: but sheNot less thro' all bore up, till, last, she sawThe white-flower'd elder-thicket from the field,Gleam thro' the Gothic archway in the wall.Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity;And one low churl, compact of thankless earth,The fatal byword of all years to come,Boring a little auger-hole in fear,Peep'd -- but his eyes, before they had their will,Were shrivel'd into darkness in his head,And dropt before him. So the Powers, who waitOn noble deeds, cancell'd a sense misused;And she, that knew not, pass'd: and all at once,With twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless noonWas clash'd and hammer'd from a hundred towers,One after one: but even then she gain'dHer bower; whence reissuing, robed and crown'd,To meet her lord, she took the tax awayAnd built herself an everlasting name.