In the slow progress from our lawless state
To an imperial dominion set
Over the wreck of that old Roman power;
And all my thoughts were eagles carrying
The thunder of mine edicts through the world.
The folk of Paris, too, had heard the news
And gathered by the palace gate that night
To see me pass them; as I entered in
I thought their frowns had faded. Then I took
My way toward the room where Galswith died