THE KNIGHTS
Not dust! Not dust the chivalry,
The knightly heart of high romance
Enshrined in ancient poetry.
Behold, the battle-fields of France!
Gone plume and crest and jeweled sword,
Gone pomp and picturesque array.
War is a grim and hideous word!
Yet heroes walk the world to-day.
A Launcelot or Lion Heart?
A Roland or a Godfrey bold?
Nay, simple lads who bear their part
As gallantly as knights of old.
Our lithe brown legions swinging by,
Our bonny sailors proudly free;
The dauntless champions of the sky,
The dragon-chasers on the sea!
A thousand Sidneys pass the cup
Of blessedness on fields of blood;
And countless Bayards offer up
Their joyous hope for others’ good.
Never were hearts so nobly bold,
Nor bodies built so strongly fair.
The tree of life has not grown old,
But blooms to-day beyond compare!
No more we glory in the past
And yearn to see those kings of men.
The peerless knights arise at last,
And epic deeds are done again!