Sad and soft is the dirge on the Gallic shore
By the mournful moan of the ocean made
For the days and the deeds that are now no more
’Ere the last of the Knights in his tomb was laid
In the depth of an old cathedral’s shade;
Above are his casque, shield, banner and lance
With the sword that had struck him the accolade;
But dead are the legends and lillies of France.
Did he pine for the powder and polished floor,
Gay dances, bright glances of masquerade?
When he parleyed of politics, was it not o’er
The lightning-blue gleam of his Damascene blade?
If he sang, was it not of an old Crusade?
If he listened and laughed at a love romance,
Would he rather not look at a carronade?
But dead are the legends and lilies of France.
If his lady’s fair favour he sought to implore
By a witty ballade or a sad serenade
Did he write it? Not he, when a troubadour
Was willing to sing all the day if paid
In a bower of bloom or a vine arcade,
Or to sigh all night in the moonbeam’s dance,
While he dreamed of rampart and escalade;
But dead are the legends and lilies of France.
The Cathedral still stands with its fine façade;
Some old stones of the rampart remain by chance;
There are diplomats, dances, and gasconade—
But dead are the legends and lilies of France.
HAWTHORN SPRAY.
After the early spring’s dissolving powers
Had eased the earth of winter’s icy weight,
I went into the woods with soul elate
To watch the coming of the first-born flowers;
Fair Flora soon began to build her bowers
Of leaf and bloom in forms both small and great,
The trees put forth their canopies of state,
And from the ground sprang up between the hours
Most beauteous blossoms in a glorious band
Of perfect shapes and colors richly blent,
And all my soul was fill’d with glad content;
But one pink hawthorn in a far-off land
Sent all my thoughts like birds on eager wing
Back to the beauty of Old England’s spring.
IF I WERE KING.
If I were King of some great land
With lords and commons to command,
My crown should be with justice bright
Instead of jewels—and Love’s light
Should be the sceptre in my hand.