 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
92
THE SONG OF THE WANDERING TROUBADOUR.
List ye unto my Minstrelsie—
A Warrior Troubadour,
A Child of Song and Chivalry,
Wanderer o'er Sea and Shore!
A Warrior Troubadour,
A Child of Song and Chivalry,
Wanderer o'er Sea and Shore!
Oh! I have been where turbanned throng
Of the East's Beauties daze the eye!
Where days all Sun, and nights all Song,
Make Life—Festivity!
Of the East's Beauties daze the eye!
Where days all Sun, and nights all Song,
Make Life—Festivity!
There, in the cool Chenaur tree groves,
Nightingales die on their own notes—
Die for their bright and blushing Loves,
With the sweet sounds in their throats!
Nightingales die on their own notes—
Die for their bright and blushing Loves,
With the sweet sounds in their throats!
93
There, dark-eyed Hourii breathe through flowers
Their Souls—all Love and Light—
Fair as those blossoms of the Bowers,
And Beautiful and Bright!
Their Souls—all Love and Light—
Fair as those blossoms of the Bowers,
And Beautiful and Bright!
So Beautiful—so Bright, are they,
That the rich Rose is shamed,
With all her pomp of proud array,
The flower of flowers most famed!
That the rich Rose is shamed,
With all her pomp of proud array,
The flower of flowers most famed!
The Sovereign—the Sultana Rose—
Whose State is all her own—
A Queen with Heaven-anointed brows,
Self-dowered with Globe and Crown.
Whose State is all her own—
A Queen with Heaven-anointed brows,
Self-dowered with Globe and Crown.
List all unto my roundelay,
Each Country and each Clime,
That laughs out to the light of day,
Hath heard my rondeau-rhyme.
Each Country and each Clime,
That laughs out to the light of day,
Hath heard my rondeau-rhyme.
94
I know thy splendid Court—Allemaine!
Full courtly dames smile there
With the diamond coil, and the red gold chain,
Wreathe they Stomachere and hair!
Full courtly dames smile there
With the diamond coil, and the red gold chain,
Wreathe they Stomachere and hair!
In far-famed fair romantic Spain
I have chaunted wonderous charms,
And on its stormy Battle-plain
Sung forth of War's alarms.
I have chaunted wonderous charms,
And on its stormy Battle-plain
Sung forth of War's alarms.
Nor sung alone—but with good sword
Dug my ensanguined way
Where belted Knight and armoured Lord
Have pressed the Empurpled Clay.
Dug my ensanguined way
Where belted Knight and armoured Lord
Have pressed the Empurpled Clay.
List, Gallants!—to my Minstrelsies,
I have traversed many a clime,
And passed through far and fair Countries
With roundelay and rhyme!
I have traversed many a clime,
And passed through far and fair Countries
With roundelay and rhyme!
95
And last the Troubadour hath come
From gay and glowing France—
Where all is mirth, and light, and bloom—
The feast—the song—the dance.
From gay and glowing France—
Where all is mirth, and light, and bloom—
The feast—the song—the dance.
And last the Troubadour hath come
From gay France, o'er the Sea—
But joy be thine—mine Island-Home!
None dear as thou can be!
From gay France, o'er the Sea—
But joy be thine—mine Island-Home!
None dear as thou can be!
Not Turkey-Land, nor proud Allemaine,
Nor any Sun-kissed Coast—
Not vine-clad France, nor Spanish plain,
Charms like thy charms can boast!
Nor any Sun-kissed Coast—
Not vine-clad France, nor Spanish plain,
Charms like thy charms can boast!
List, list ye to my Minstrelsies!—
Thus, girdled by the wave,
And severed far and wide from these,
None boasts of Sons so brave!
Thus, girdled by the wave,
And severed far and wide from these,
None boasts of Sons so brave!
96
Now list all to my fervent lay!
Though warmer, lovelier Skies,
And Suns of clearer, brighter ray,
And bowers of richer dyes.
Though warmer, lovelier Skies,
And Suns of clearer, brighter ray,
And bowers of richer dyes.
Though sweeter dews, and softer days,
And gales of tenderer air,
May win for those far Lands more praise,
None boast of Maids so fair—
And gales of tenderer air,
May win for those far Lands more praise,
None boast of Maids so fair—
None boasts of Daughters fair as thine,
Proud Empire of the Wave!
And all unmatched—unpeered they shine—
Thy Beautiful—thy Brave!
Proud Empire of the Wave!
And all unmatched—unpeered they shine—
Thy Beautiful—thy Brave!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |