Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/125

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And, best of all, to see his face!
I worked his cloak with broidery fair:
He'll look like one of princely race,
And with a more than princely grace
His plumed helm he'll wear.

The impious Egyptian bent
Close above me last night, hissing,
(God help us!) "You are confident!
Drums will sound till the air is rent,
But one drummer will be missing."

But I hope still, so much I've prayed!
Though, with her hand outstretched to where
Among the tombs her home she made,
Her snake's eyes gleaming through the shade,
She said: "We'll meet to-morrow there."

No more dark fancies! Hear how loud
The drums beat! Sisters, let us go.
See how the ladies fair and proud
The purple-hung pavilions crowd,
Where banners float and flowers glow.

The escort comes, by pikemen led,
Then, not to-day in armor tried,
In gleaming silken robes instead,
And velvet-capped each haughty head,
The barons, under flags flung wide.

And robed priests pass, chanting low,
And heralds, riding milk-white steeds,
Escutcheons on their corslets show
Their masters' rank, won long ago
By some ancestor's mighty deeds.

In Persian mail magnificent,
Feared of all hell, the Templars ride;
Then, all in buff, with bows unbent,
The long array of archers, sent
From far Lausanne, march side by side.