[THOU IN WHOSE SWORD-GREAT STORY SHINE THE DEEDS]

Thou in whose sword-great story shine the deeds

Of history her heroes, sounds the tread

Of those vast armies of the marching dead,

With standards and the neighing of great steeds

Moving to war across the smiling meads;

Thou by whose page we break the precious bread

Of dear communion with the past, and wed

To valor, battle with heroic breeds;

Thou, Froissart, for that thou didst love the pen

While others wrote in steel, accept all praise

Of after ages, and of hungering days

For whom the old glories move, the old trumpets cry;

Who gav'st as one of those immortal men

His life that his fair city might not die.