Page:Pieces People Ask For.djvu/124

I said to our abbé one night,
Pray for our soldiers, messire, pray!
And since he loves to see their light,
I left three candles burning bright
Before St. Gildas' shrine next day.

And to Our Lady of Lorette
I promised in my cruel fright
To wear — and see, I wear it yet—
A ruff with pilgrim's cockles set,
Close hid from curious sight.

No loving letters has he penned
While far away where battles rage:
Though life and love be near their end.
The vassal has no squire to send,
The vassal's sweetheart has no page.

To-day the duke returns in state,
With him my love, a soldier tried,
No longer lowly in estate.
I lift my head, bowed down of late,
And my bliss blossoms into pride.

The duke brings home triumphantly,
Worn and soiled, the flag that's floated
O'er his camp. Come all with me
To the old gate, the troops to see,
And the prince and my betrothèd.

To see the horse, with trappings gay
Caparisoned, his lord to bear,
Advance, retreat, with conscious neigh,
Tossing his head till its array
Of plumes like flaming torches flare.

To see — O sisters, why so slow?—
The drums that lead my hero on,
The drums that in the sunlight glow,
That throb beneath his tireless blow
Till the heart throbs in unison.