Classic Poem

With comrades twelve upon the main
King Charles set out to sail.
The Holy Land he hoped to gain,
But drifted in a gale.

Then spake Sir Roland, hero brave:
“Well I can fight and shield;
Yet neither stormy wind nor wave
Will to my weapon yield.”

Sir Holger spoke, from Denmark's strand:
“The harp I feign would play;
But what avails the music bland
When tempests roaring sway!”

Sir Oliver was not too glad;
Upon his sword he'd stare:
“For my own weal 'twere not so bad,
I grieve, for good Old Clare.”

Said wicked Ganilon with gall
(He said it 'neath his breath):
“The devil come and take ye all—
Were I but spared this death!”

Archbishop Turpin deeply sighed:
“The knights of God are we.
O come, our Savior, be our guide,
And lead us o'er the sea!”

Then spake Sir Richard Fearless stern:
“Ye demons there in hell,
I served ye many a goodly turn,
Now serve ye me as well!”

“My counsel often has been heard,”
Sir Naimes did remark.
“Fresh water, though, and helpful word
Are rare upon a bark.”

Then spake Sir Riol, old and gray:
“An aged knight am I;
And they shall lay my corpse away
Where it is good and dry.”

And then Sir Guy began to sing—
He was a courtly knight:
“Feign would I have a birdie's wing,
And to my love take flight!”

Then Count Garein, the noble, said:
“God, danger from us keep!
I'd rather drink the wine so red
Than water in the deep.”

Sir Lambert spake, a sprightly youth:
“May God behold our state!
I'd rather eat good fish, forsooth,
Than be myself a bait.”

Then quoth Sir Gottfried: “Be it so,
I heed not how I fare;
Whatever I must undergo,
My brothers all would share.”

But at the helm King Charles sat by,
And never said a word,
And steered the ship with steadfast eye
Till no more tempest stirred.