Chronicles and Characters By Robert Lytton (Owen Meredith): In Two Volumes |
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FAREWELL TO THE HOLY LANDS.
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 | Chronicles and Characters |  |
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FAREWELL TO THE HOLY LANDS.
(ELEVENTH CENTURY.)
1
Thrice, ho trumpeter, sound!And around, and around
With the merry red wine once more, friends!
Then to stirrup and selle,
And away,—fare ye well,—
For my ship is at hand on the shore, friends!
2
Shout! for Baldwin hath ta'enAll his own back again,
And O well for the brave right hands
That have won by the rood,
From the Infidel brood,
God His ground in the Holy Lands!
3
Here's, from each and from all,To the old Amiràl!
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For a King among Kings
Is the Lion with wings,
The strong lion of stout St. Mark!
4
And here's now to the worthOf the West and the North,
The hearts of the North and the West!
And the eyes and the lips
Of those sweet she-slips
Of the East, that we each loved best!
5
Friend, praise me the dame,Whose so soft southern name
I never could learn how to say,
Tho' I well know the bliss
Of her soft southern kiss
That hath kiss'd better knowledge away:
6
And I'll pledge you that GreekLearnèd Lady's loved cheek,
And the depth of her dark eye-glance,
All whose praises you sung
In the great Latin tongue
Thro' the gardens of golden Byzance.
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7
Prithee shine out afar,Thou red-eyed Even Star,
Shine over the seas and the sands!
And so light me again
To the wood, hill, and plain
Where mine own pleasant castle stands.
8
Far in Thüringenwald,Far in Thüringenwald,
There the nightingale calls for me
Thro' the dewy spring night,
When the walls glimmer white
To the moon on the long dark lea.
9
Farther still, o'er the Baltic,Old friend, black, basaltic,
With the whirlwind grim in his grip,
There your castle awaits,
Behind close-cullised gates,
The sound of that horn at your hip:
10
Like a snowdrop, so white,Shy, tender, and slight,
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Is at watch for a sail,
When the twilight is pale
O'er the vast Suevonian water.
11
But in Thüringenwald,Oh in Thüringenwald,
My good wife is waiting me,
While the nightingale sings
To her marvellous things
Of the deeds done over the sea.
12
Western star, merry star,Glitter fair, glitter far
To the silvery northern climes!
Blow ye sea-breezes sweet,
Blowing homeward, and greet
My lady ten million times!
13
Fare thee well, friend, and leader!And farewell to thee, Cedar
On Lebanon! Fare ye well, too,
Sweet Cyprus and Sicily!
Ah, beck not so busily,
We shall not weigh anchor for you,
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14
Ye soft-eyed siren maids,In the rich-scented shades
Of your rose-bearing gardens yonder!
We have wives over there
Of our own, all as fair,—
Far more fair, as I think,—and fonder.
15
For the rest of my life,Save my old hunting knife,
Not a weapon will I wear now:
And your bow and seal-spear
Friend of mine, you shall bear
Henceforth but in sport, or for show.
16
We will hang up our mailOn a great golden nail,
And dispute which is bruised the sorest.
In a doublet of green
I will follow my Queen
Thro' the old Thuringian Forest!
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