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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
RICHARD COEUR DE LION: 1. HIS PARENTAGE, by ANONYMOUS First Line: "lord jesus, king of victory / who did such grace, and such glory" Last Line: "his son richard, by decree, / after him the king should be" Subject(s): "richard I, King Of England (1157-1199); | |||
LORD JESUS, King of Victory, Who did such grace, and such glory, Send unto our King Richard, Who was never proven coward, Good it is in Geste to read Of his conquests, and his deeds! Many tales men weave anew Of good knights, so strong and true, Men their deeds read in romance Both in England, and in France; Of Roland, and of Oliver, And of every dosiper; Alexander, Charlemagne, Of King Arthur and Gawain, -- Courteous knights and good, they were -- Of Turpin, and the Dane Ogier. And of Troy men read in rhyme, How they warred in olden time, Of Hector and Achilles true And the folk whom there they slew. In French books this rhyme is wrought, Laymen of the tale know naught, 'Mid hundred laymen there be none Who know French, save, perchance, one! None the less, with gladsome cheer There be many fain to hear Noble jousts, I understand, Wrought by knights of Engelland; Therefore, I, par foi, will read Of a king of doughty deed, Richard, king and warrior best Men may find in any Geste; All who to my tale attend May God grant them right good end! Lordings, hearken first of all How King Richard's birth did fall -- Henry, was his father hight; In his time, to tell aright, As I find it writ again Was Saint Thomas foully slain At Canterbury's altar stone Where be many marvels shown. Twenty years to him were told, Then was he a king full bold, But of wife would he hear naught Tho' she treasure with her brought. But to wed they pressed him still Till he yielded to their will, Sent of messengers a band Into many a diverse land, That the fairest maid on life They should bring their king as wife. Swift those messengers were dight -- Ship they took the self-same night, Hoisted up the sail, I trow, For the wind was good enow. When they were well out at sea Then the breeze failed suddenly -- This hath wrought them woe, I ween -- They another ship have seen, Ne'er had they seen such an one, White it was, of whales bone, Every nail was gold engraved, Of pure gold the rudder-stave, Ivory the mast sans fail, And of samite all the sail; And the ropes were twined of silk, Every one as white as milk. All the vessel they behold Hung about with cloth of gold, Loof and windlass, fair to view, All were bright in azure blue. In that ship, I trow, there were Valiant knights, and ladies fair, And one maiden 'midst them all, Bright as sun thro' glass doth fall. Swift, her men aboard they stand, Seize those others by the hand, Pray them there with them to dwell And their tidings swiftly tell. And they answer, they would show All they might desire to know; "To far lands our way we went, For King Henry us hath sent That the fairest maid on life We may bring to him for wife!" As the words were spoken fair Rose a king from off his chair -- (Of carbuncle was that throne, Never they its like had known.) Two dukes stood that king beside, Noble men, of mickle pride, Welcome fair they gave that day, Bade them come aboard straightway; Thirty knights, I speak no lie, Were they, in that companie, Straight aboard that barque they went Who as messengers were sent. Knights there were, and maids enow -- Seven score, and more, I trow, Welcomed them with one accord, Set up trestles, laid a board, Cloth of gold was spread thereon, And the king, he bade, anon, That his daughter speedily Set before his face should be. Then, with sound of trumpet blast, Lo! that maid before them passed, In her train, of knights a score, And of ladies, many more, Knelt before that maiden free, Asked her what her will might be? Thus they feasted and made gay As the king himself did pray, And when they had eaten well Their adventures would they tell. Then the king, he straightway said, How in vision he was bade From his land to take his way And to England go straightway, And his daughter dear also With him on the ship should go -- "So, in fitting fashion dight We would seek that land forthright." Straight there spake a messenger -- (That man's name was Berenger --) "To seek further is no need, Bring her to our king with speed, When his eyes behold the maid He will deem him well repaid." From the north-east blew the wind, Better breeze they might not find, At the Tower they land straightway And to London take their way. Soon the knights their lord have told Of that lady, fair and bold, How a ship lay off the Tower With a maiden white as flower. Then King Henry did him dight, Earls and barons, many a knight, Rode with him that maid to meet, Courteously he would her greet. -- Soon that maid to land they led, Cloth of gold before her spread, And her father walked before, Crown of gold on head he wore; Messengers on either side, Minstrels too, of mickle pride. Henry swift from horse did spring, Greeted fair that stranger king, And that lady fair and free -- "Welcome be ye both to me!" Thus to Westminster they go, Lords and ladies fair also, Trumpets sound a blast so gay As to meat they take their way. Knights, they served them with all speed, More to tell there is no need. After meat, right courteously, Spake our lord, the King Henry, To that king, there, at that same: "Say, dear Sire, what is thy name?" "Sire, men call me Corbaryng, I of Antioch am king --" Then he told our lord how he Thro' a vision, set to sea: "Sire, had it not been for this I had brought more men, I wis, And of vessels many more That of victuals bare a store." Asked our king the lady there: "And thy name, thou maiden fair?" "Cassidorien, without lie." Thus she answered readily. "Demoiselle, so bright and sheen Wilt thou stay here as my queen?" Quoth the maiden soft and still; "I am at my father's will." Then her father spake anon, All the king's will should be done And she should, with speed, be wed As a queen, to royal bed; But she prayed this courtesie She be wedded privily. Thus were they espoused that night, At the feast danced many a knight, Joy was made the court among -- With the morn a Mass was sung Ere the Host they raised, I ween, In a swoon she fell, the queen, Wonder smote the folk, and dread -- To a chamber was she led, Quoth: "This spell is laid on me That the Host I may not see." Corbaryng, the morrow's tide, Sailed, nor longer would abide. Henry dwelt with his fair queen, Babes were born to them, I ween, Two sons, and a daughter fair As the book doth well declare, Richard was the first, sans fail, (He of whom I tell this tale) John his brother, at that same, Topyas, their sister's name. Thus the twain this life they led Till full fifteen years were sped. On a day, before the Rood, At the Mass, King Henry stood, Came a lord of high degree, "Sire," he quoth, "how may this be That your wife, my lady-queen, Dare not at the Mass be seen? Give us leave to hold her here So that she the Gospel hear, Keep her still till Mass be said -- Thou shalt see a sight of dread!" Then the king doth grant their will, Said that they might hold her still: "Nor for weal, nor yet for woe From the kirk ne'er let her go!" When the sacring bell they ring For the canon to begin From the kirk she would away -- But the Earl, he straight said: "Nay, Lady, thou shalt here abide Matters not what may betide." By the hand she held anon Her daughter and her young son, John, Thro' the roof she took her flight Openly, in all men's sight, From the air John fell to ground, Brake his thigh there in that stound. With her daughter fled the queen, Never more by men was seen. Marvel on the king was laid That she such an ending made, For her love, who was served so, No more would he come nor go, His son Richard, by decree, After him the king should be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SITTING BULL IN SERBIA by WILLIAM JAY SMITH TO THE EXCELLENT ORINDA by PHILO PHILIPPA EPIGRAM OCCASIONED BY CIBBER'S VERSES IN PRAISE OF NASH: 1 by ALEXANDER POPE THE GIFT OF THE GODS by JOHN GODFREY SAXE TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH by ALFRED TENNYSON BEAU NASH by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER BEAU NASH AND THE ROMAN, OR THE TWO ERAS by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS |
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