TO J. C. D.
27
Oft in fancy we have traveled o'er the fields of Palestine,
Seen a thousand armors gleaming, seen a thousand lances shine,
Followed with our eyes the banners of the stern and high crusade,
When the lion-hearted Richard, into dust the lion laid.
Seen a thousand armors gleaming, seen a thousand lances shine,
Followed with our eyes the banners of the stern and high crusade,
When the lion-hearted Richard, into dust the lion laid.
High above the holy city, with her thousand"minarets,
Gleaming in the silent moonlight, like a sun that never sets,
Seen the banners of the crescent, looking upwards toward the sky,
While afar, in stern defiance, waved the red-cross flag on high.
Gleaming in the silent moonlight, like a sun that never sets,
Seen the banners of the crescent, looking upwards toward the sky,
While afar, in stern defiance, waved the red-cross flag on high.
Though the minstrel band hath sung them, and the minstrel eye have seen,
And the minstrel heart hath loved them, for the glories that have been,
Like to fancy's wayside children, still they gleam before the eye,
Claiming for themselves a tribute, though that tribute be a sigh.
And the minstrel heart hath loved them, for the glories that have been,
Like to fancy's wayside children, still they gleam before the eye,
Claiming for themselves a tribute, though that tribute be a sigh.
Not alone the days of knighthood hath our wandering fancy claimed,
Yet a feeling binds us to them, that the present hath not named;
Yet a feeling binds us to them, that the present hath not named;
