A Woman's Reliquary [by Edward Dowden] |
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| LXXI. | LXXI CHILDHOOD |
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 | A Woman's Reliquary |  |
40
LXXI
CHILDHOOD
Her earliest love (down jealous rage!)
Was but the King of Scotland's son,
Crusading Kenneth; eight her age,
My sweet, small, amorous simpleton.
Was but the King of Scotland's son,
Crusading Kenneth; eight her age,
My sweet, small, amorous simpleton.
Vanished the northern wizardry;
Next Harold slain in desperate fight,
Found by the Swan-neck (that was she;)
The third, I think, Aslauga's knight.
Next Harold slain in desperate fight,
Found by the Swan-neck (that was she;)
The third, I think, Aslauga's knight.
Whereon names follow quick and thick,
But somewhat fretted by the moth,
Save one all gold—Theodoric!
Tut, child, to choose an Ostrogoth!
But somewhat fretted by the moth,
Save one all gold—Theodoric!
Tut, child, to choose an Ostrogoth!
But when the lists were set one day,
Who like a thunderbolt bore down
All champions, bore the prize away?
Dear, a poor clerk in scholar's gown.
Who like a thunderbolt bore down
All champions, bore the prize away?
Dear, a poor clerk in scholar's gown.
| A Woman's Reliquary | |