Lines in Pleasant Places Rhythmics of many moods and quantities. Wise and otherwise |
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THE PREUX CHEVALIER.
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 | Lines in Pleasant Places |  |
76
THE PREUX CHEVALIER.
'Twas in a vision of the night,
That centuries of years passed o'er me,
And, in a blaze of sudden light,
Old Jacques De Molay stood before me.
That centuries of years passed o'er me,
And, in a blaze of sudden light,
Old Jacques De Molay stood before me.
I knew him by his presence grand—
Armed cap à pie, all iron plated,
A sort of monitor on land,
On whom a thousand forces waited.
Armed cap à pie, all iron plated,
A sort of monitor on land,
On whom a thousand forces waited.
I nodded in familiar style;
He smiled, his courtesy to show me;
Then took a vacant chair, the while,
And said, “My boy, I see you know me.”
He smiled, his courtesy to show me;
Then took a vacant chair, the while,
And said, “My boy, I see you know me.”
“Know you! who don't? We look with pride
On what you did for our profession:
You fought and suffered, bled and died,
And roasted—for its truths' possession.”
On what you did for our profession:
You fought and suffered, bled and died,
And roasted—for its truths' possession.”
77
“Nuff sed!” cried he; “'twas long ago;
I'd quite forgot the smart of frying;
'Tis lucky you don't have to show
Such tests, through such an ordeal trying.
I'd quite forgot the smart of frying;
'Tis lucky you don't have to show
Such tests, through such an ordeal trying.
“The stake, I fear, would make you quail”—
“Not it,” said I, “if Nannie broils it,
Done to a turn”—Molay turned pale;
“Done!” murmured he; “your punning spoils it.
“Not it,” said I, “if Nannie broils it,
Done to a turn”—Molay turned pale;
“Done!” murmured he; “your punning spoils it.
“Now pray be quiet while I state
The object of my coming hither;
However good a single pate,
I wish to put our heads together.
The object of my coming hither;
However good a single pate,
I wish to put our heads together.
“Sir Launfal sought the holy grail,
And found it in poetic vision;
In such direction I should fail—
I seek a practical decision.
And found it in poetic vision;
In such direction I should fail—
I seek a practical decision.
“I wish your aid the way to clear,
All intervening clouds to scatter;
I seek the one ‘Preux Chevalier,’
And that, you see, is ‘what's the matter;’
All intervening clouds to scatter;
I seek the one ‘Preux Chevalier,’
And that, you see, is ‘what's the matter;’
“For 'mong the knights of these late days,
Are glorious boys, there's no denying,
And who shall wear the crowning bays
Becomes a question nice and trying.”
Are glorious boys, there's no denying,
And who shall wear the crowning bays
Becomes a question nice and trying.”
78
“'Tis hard to choose from such a crowd,”
I said, “of knights brave to the letter,
But 'tis a proverb long allowed,—
For every best there is a better.
I said, “of knights brave to the letter,
But 'tis a proverb long allowed,—
For every best there is a better.
“And should you trust the knights to say
Who was the best, I wage a button,
That every one would vote straightway
To give the palm to W****** S*****.”
Who was the best, I wage a button,
That every one would vote straightway
To give the palm to W****** S*****.”
“By Jove!” said De Molay, “you're right;
I've marked his course with satisfaction;
No truer gentleman or knight
Coins principle to use or action.
I've marked his course with satisfaction;
No truer gentleman or knight
Coins principle to use or action.
“His cheerful face his heart betrays;
His generous hand is ever sowing
Those seeds that in the sun's warm rays
Are into loving fullness growing.
His generous hand is ever sowing
Those seeds that in the sun's warm rays
Are into loving fullness growing.
“His praise is spoke by every lip,
No voice was ever raised to doubt him,
And, for all grand, good fellowship,
There's not a streak that's mean about him.
No voice was ever raised to doubt him,
And, for all grand, good fellowship,
There's not a streak that's mean about him.
“I've seen him on the tented field,
Where Winter Island dints the ocean,
Where veterans in their marches wheeled
In all the poetry of motion.
Where Winter Island dints the ocean,
Where veterans in their marches wheeled
In all the poetry of motion.
79
“I've marked his eye in frenzy roll,
As War's fierce pageant moved before him,
And seen the ardor of his soul
Blaze in the manner that he bore him.
As War's fierce pageant moved before him,
And seen the ardor of his soul
Blaze in the manner that he bore him.
“Upon the hill his marquee stood,
And there, when ceased the stern contention,
His social spirits, like a flood,
Beamed forth, too numerous to mention.
And there, when ceased the stern contention,
His social spirits, like a flood,
Beamed forth, too numerous to mention.
“There flashing wit to popping corks
Gave quick response 'mid glasses' rattle,
And charging lines of knives and forks
Bore note of epicurean battle;
Gave quick response 'mid glasses' rattle,
And charging lines of knives and forks
Bore note of epicurean battle;
“Yet still, as round him raged the strife
Of gastronomic wild invasion,
Reliant on his carving-knife
He met, in full, the ‘great occasion.’
Of gastronomic wild invasion,
Reliant on his carving-knife
He met, in full, the ‘great occasion.’
“Full well the golden gift he showed
That you at times enjoy, his brothers,—
The art, most lavishly bestowed,
Of giving happiness to others.
That you at times enjoy, his brothers,—
The art, most lavishly bestowed,
Of giving happiness to others.
“And I've partaken of his cheer,
In ghostly presence never noted,
And know that none in either sphere
Was more to generous deeds devoted.
In ghostly presence never noted,
And know that none in either sphere
Was more to generous deeds devoted.
80
“In later days, when fearful strife
The nation's very being threated,
And parricidal hands the knife
With murderous intention whetted,—
The nation's very being threated,
And parricidal hands the knife
With murderous intention whetted,—
“He gave his means, with ready hand,
The flag to save, its stars unriven;
He cheered the saviors of the land,
He honored those who'd bravely striven.
The flag to save, its stars unriven;
He cheered the saviors of the land,
He honored those who'd bravely striven.
“He is, in truth, ‘Preux Chevalier,’
—I needn't make a further trial,—
And I've a radiant jewel here
That you must bear him—no denial.
—I needn't make a further trial,—
And I've a radiant jewel here
That you must bear him—no denial.
“I can't do it myself, you know,
For I should be a ghostly donor;
You must the gift of love bestow,
And Palestine be guard of honor.”
For I should be a ghostly donor;
You must the gift of love bestow,
And Palestine be guard of honor.”
I saw the gift—a sparkling sun,
With brilliants dight of purest water,
As big as pullet eggs each one,
And weighing at the least a quarter.
With brilliants dight of purest water,
As big as pullet eggs each one,
And weighing at the least a quarter.
My hand I held to take the prize,
When some confounded thing or other
Brought consciousness unto my eyes,
And out stepped our illustrious brother.
When some confounded thing or other
Brought consciousness unto my eyes,
And out stepped our illustrious brother.
81
Yet still enough remained behind
On which to hinge a little story,
And I'm, with all my heart, inclined
In the dreamed Templar's choice to glory,—
On which to hinge a little story,
And I'm, with all my heart, inclined
In the dreamed Templar's choice to glory,—
Adopt his praise, though wide awake,
—A dream more true was never broken,—
And for my beau ideal take
Him who deserves the Templar's token.
—A dream more true was never broken,—
And for my beau ideal take
Him who deserves the Templar's token.
But, 'stead of jewelled gift, we bring
One of still more refined selection,
—A rare and radiant offering,—
Our hearts' warm, unreserved affection.
One of still more refined selection,
—A rare and radiant offering,—
Our hearts' warm, unreserved affection.
This is no dream—it conscious dwells,
Of self a part, to alter never:
And he shall be, while feeling wells,
Our own “Preux Chevalier” forever.
Of self a part, to alter never:
And he shall be, while feeling wells,
Our own “Preux Chevalier” forever.
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