 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
116
BAYARD.
The clarion sounds,—the steeds impatient prance,While featly spurring to the mimic fray
The high-born chivalry of gallant France
Poise the stout shield, and break the quivering lance;—
And who this beardless champion of to-day?
The young Bayard; than whom no brighter name
Shines in more blazon on the rolls of fame,
The fearless, and the spotless,—nobly hail'd,
All honour to the brave!—Alone he stood
With single sword against the multitude
At Gargliano; and when fortune fail'd,
Generous Bayard alone knew not to yield,—
But full of glories—gentle, brave, and good,
He died in pray'r, though on the battle field.
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