III.
Duke William's Falcon. A.D. 1065.
Upon a marsh beside the sea,
With hawk and hound and vassals three,
Rode WILLIAM, Duke of NORMANDY,
The heir of Rover ROLLO;
And ever as his falcon flew
Quoth he: "Mark well, by St. MACLOU,
For where she hovers hasten you,
And where she falls I follow."
She rose into the misty sky,
A brooding menace hid on high,
Ere she dipped earthward suddenly
As dips the silver swallow;
Then, spurring through the rushes grey,
Cried WILLIAM, "Sirs, away, away!
For where she hovers is the prey,
And where she falls I follow."
Her marbled plume with crimson dight,
Seaward she soared, and bent her flight
Above the ridge of foaming white
Along the harbour hollow;
Then, looking grimly toward the strait,
Said WILLIAM, "Truly, soon or late,
There where she hovers is my fate,
And where she falls I follow."