Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/125

Rh And, best of all, to see his face!
 * I worked his cloak with broidery fair:

He'll look like one of princely race, And with a more than princely grace
 * His plumed helm he'll wear.

The impious Egyptian bent
 * Close above me last night, hissing,

(God help us!) "You are confident! Drums will sound till the air is rent,
 * But one drummer will be missing."

But I hope still, so much I've prayed!
 * Though, with her hand outstretched to where

Among the tombs her home she made, Her snake's eyes gleaming through the shade,
 * She said: "We'll meet to-morrow there."

No more dark fancies! Hear how loud
 * The drums beat! Sisters, let us go.

See how the ladies fair and proud The purple-hung pavilions crowd,
 * Where banners float and flowers glow.

The escort comes, by pikemen led,
 * Then, not to-day in armor tried,

In gleaming silken robes instead, And velvet-capped each haughty head,
 * The barons, under flags flung wide.

And robed priests pass, chanting low,
 * And heralds, riding milk-white steeds,

Escutcheons on their corslets show Their masters' rank, won long ago
 * By some ancestor's mighty deeds.

In Persian mail magnificent,
 * Feared of all hell, the Templars ride;

Then, all in buff, with bows unbent, The long array of archers, sent
 * From far Lausanne, march side by side.