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76
MARGUERITE OF FRANCE.
So shrank they from th' imperial glance
Of Her—that fragile thing!
And her flute-like voice rose clear and high,
Through the din of arms around,
Sweet, and yet stirring to the soul,
As a silver clarion's sound.
"The honour of the Lily
Is in your hands to keep,
And the Banner of the Cross, for Him
Who died on Calvary's steep:
And the city which for Christian prayer
Hath heard the holy bell—
And is it these your hearts would yield
To the godless Infidel?
"Then bring me here a breastplate,
And a helm, before ye fly,
And I will gird my woman's form,
And on the ramparts die!
