Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems — The Eve of Crecy
THE EVE OF CRECY
Gold on her head, and gold on her feet, And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet, And a golden girdle round my sweet;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ Margaret's maids are fair to see, Freshly dress'd and pleasantly;
Margaret's hair falls down to her knee;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ If I were rich I would kiss her feet;
I would kiss the place where the gold hems meet, And the golden girdle round my sweet: _Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ Ah me!
I have never touch'd her hand;
When the arriere-ban goes through the land, Six basnets under my pennon stand;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ And many an one grins under his hood: Sir Lambert du Bois, with all his men good, Has neither food nor firewood;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ If I were rich I would kiss her feet, And the golden girdle of my sweet, And thereabouts where the gold hems meet;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ Yet even now it is good to think, While my few poor varlets grumble and drink In my desolate hall, where the fires sink, _Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ Of Margaret sitting glorious there, In glory of gold and glory of hair, And glory of glorious face most fair;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ Likewise to-night I make good cheer, Because this battle draweth near: For what have I to lose or fear?
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ For, look you, my horse is good to prance A right fair measure in this war-dance, Before the eyes of Philip of France;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ And sometime it may hap, perdie, While my new towers stand up three and three, And my hall gets painted fair to see, _Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_ That folks may say: Times change, by the rood, For Lambert, banneret of the wood, Has heaps of food and firewood;
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite;_ And wonderful eyes, too, under the hood Of a damsel of right noble blood.
St. Ives, for Lambert of the Wood!
_Ah!
qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
_
