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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
The King obeyed:
Thus he addressed her: ‘Maid, thy suit is won:
To Orleans lead ten thousand men—my best—
Since there thou sayest that God will shew a sign.’
She answered: ‘Ere I march I claim three things:
The first is this: the men who share that march
Must be unhired; true men whose wage is God.
My next demand is this: that standard old
In the first Crusade the glory of old Tours:
The world's Creator stands 'mid fleurs-de-lys
Blazoned thereon—a gold sphere in His hand:
That standard I must bear. My last demand—
A sword there lies within Saint Catherine's Church
At Fierbois: record of it none remains:
Yet thrice in vision I have seen that sword:
That sword must go before us on our march.’
The King complied. On the third night at twelve
They found that sword she spake of; on its hilt
That gravure she had seen.
Thus he addressed her: ‘Maid, thy suit is won:
To Orleans lead ten thousand men—my best—
Since there thou sayest that God will shew a sign.’
She answered: ‘Ere I march I claim three things:
The first is this: the men who share that march
Must be unhired; true men whose wage is God.
My next demand is this: that standard old
In the first Crusade the glory of old Tours:
The world's Creator stands 'mid fleurs-de-lys
Blazoned thereon—a gold sphere in His hand:
That standard I must bear. My last demand—
A sword there lies within Saint Catherine's Church
At Fierbois: record of it none remains:
Yet thrice in vision I have seen that sword:
That sword must go before us on our march.’
The King complied. On the third night at twelve
They found that sword she spake of; on its hilt
That gravure she had seen.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |