The Beggar, till the Princes of the Earth
Bow low to kiss his stirrup; who dost give
Power and distinction, virtue and renown.
My name shall be among the fortunate,
For I am of those whose will is Destiny.
And then, perhaps, when Victory shall be mine,
My Margaret will not turn away from me,
As now, methinks, even she must wish to do.”
The thought was inspiration: all on fire,
He wrote to one, their noble house’s chief,