Classic Poem

King Charles sat at the festive board
Amongst his peers at Aix;
With fish and flesh 'twas royally stored,
Sore thirst on no man lay.
Large golden cups of brightest sheen,
Enriched with jewels red and green,
Were gleaming down the hall.

Then spake king Charles, that hero bold:
“What means this idle show?
The brightest jewel earth doth hold
Is wanting still, I trow!
This jewel, bright as noontide's blaze,
A giant on his shield displays
In dark Ardennes' deep wood.

Archbishop Turpin, Richard keen,
Sir Naims, Bavaria's knight,
Sir Milo, Aymon, Count Guarine,
Sprang up to claim the fight.
In haste they donned their panoply,
And bade their chargers saddled be,
To seek the giant fell.

Young Roland, Milo's son, 'gan speak:
“Dear father, hear my suit;
Tho' deeming me too young and weak
With giants to dispute,
Yet grant me forth with thee to fare,
For thee thy trusty lance to bear,
And eke thy glittering shield.”

In haste these six companions good
'Gan all together start,
But when they reached the darksome wood,
They deemed 'twere best to part.
Behind his father Roland rode,
Rejoicing in his glittering load,
The hero's lance and shield.

By sunlight and by moonlight pale
Far rode the warriors keen;
Yet ne'er by rock or wooded dale
The giant's form was seen.
At noon, upon the fourth long day,
The good Sir Milo sleeping lay
Beneath an oak's vast shade.

Young Roland in the distance viewed
A flashing swift and bright,
Whose radiance, piercing through the wood,
Put hart and hind to flight.
He marked it gleaming from a shield,
The which a giant huge did wield
Descending from the hill.

Young Roland thus 'gan counsel take:
“What cause have I for fear?
What need with startling cry to wake
From sleep my father dear?
Awake, his charger crops the field,
Awake are sword and spear and shield,
Awake young Roland too.”

Sir Milo's keen and trusty brand
Beside him Roland bound:
The lengthy lance he took in hand,
And seized the target round.
Sir Milo's horse he next bestrode,
And softly through the wood he rode
His father not to wake.

And when he reached the rocky wall,
The giant laughing spake:
“What doth this dwarf, this infant small
On such a charger make?
His sword's far longer than himself,
His spear to earth nigh drags the elf,
His shield will crush him soon!”

“Come on, come on!” young Roland cried,
“Thy jests shall cost thee sore;
For if my shield be long and wide,
'Twill shelter me the more.
A horse that's big, a man that's small,
An arm that's short, a sword that's tall
Must help each other out.”

His staff the giant downward brought,
Its sweep was swift and wide;
Young Roland swung, as quick as thought,
His charger far aside.
Against his foe his lance he flung,
But from the wondrous shield it sprung
Again to whence it came!

In both his hands young Roland grasped
His sword right speedily;
The giant too his sword-hilt clasped,
But clumsier far was he.
Young Roland with a flourish deft
His left hand 'neath the target cleft—
Down tumbled hand and shield.

Then quailed the giant's heart at length,
When thus the shield was gone;
The jewel, that had lent him strength,
He mourned with bitter moan.
To seize the target hastened he,
Young Roland smote him near the knee,
To earth the giant fell.

Young Roland caught him by the crown,
And hewed his neck in twain;
A gushing stream of blood ran down
Towards the grassy plain.
Then from the dead man's shield in haste
The jewel bright he soon displaced,
Rejoicing in its gleam.

Then 'neath his cloak the gem he thrust,
Next to a spring he goes;
There washed from stains of blood and dust
The weapons and his clothes.
Then back young Roland rode amain,
His father soon he found again
Still sleeping 'neath the shade.

He laid him at his father's side,
And slept beneath the oak,
Till in the chilly eventide
At last Sir Milo woke.
“Come, Roland, wake! come wake, my son,
Take shield and spear and let's begone
To seek the giant fell.”

Then up they rose in eager haste,
And wandered far a field;
Behind his father Roland paced,
Still bearing lance and shield.
At last they reached the very spot
Where lately raged the contest hot,
Where slain the giant lay.

The scene with wonder Roland scanned,
For nowhere could be seen
The giant's head, nor yet the hand
That late had severed been!
Nor sword, nor cudgel met their view,
Gone was his shield and harness too,
They found but trunk and limbs!

The giant's trunk Sir Milo scanned;
“How huge a corse we see!
This stump may make us understand
How mighty was the tree!
'Tis he we sought—what more's to say?
Success and fame I've slept away,
For which I aye must mourn.”—

At Aix king Charles stood gazing round,
Before his castle-gate;
“Are all my heroes safe and sound?
They linger all too late.
Lo! yonder doth at last appear
Sir Aymon, bearing on his spear
The giant's gory head!”.

Sir Aymon rode with downcast gaze;
His lance he downward bent,
Before his master's feet he lays
The head with blood besprent:
“This head within the wood I found,
The giant's trunk lay on the ground
Some fifty paces off.”

Archbishop Turpin next displayed
The giant's glove to view;
The clumsy hand therein was laid,
Which—laughing—forth he drew:
“A pretty relic this, I ween!
I found it in the forest green
Already hewn away!”

Sir Naimé of Bavaria then
Dragged in the giant's stick:
“See what I found in yonder glen—
A weapon tall and thick.
Its weight doth make me thirst amain,
Right well could I a goblet drain
Of good Bavarian beer!”

On foot Count Richard came in sight,
And led his charger on;
It bore the giant's armour bright,
Both sword and habergeon.
“Who cares to search yon lonely wood,
More bits may find of armour good;
I could not bring them all.”

Next in the distance Count Guarine
The shield held up to view.
“Who brings the shield is he, I ween,
Who brings the jewel too.”—
“The shield, my worthy sirs, have I;
And would the gem therein did lie!
But, ah! 'tis broken out.”

The brave Sir Milo last of all
Towards the castle came;
His charger's steps but slowly fall,
He hangs his head for shame.
Behind his father Roland rode,
Rejoicing in his glistening load,
The hero's lance and shield.

As nearer to the gate they paced,
And tow'rds the heroes went,
He from his father's shield displaced
The central ornament;
Then set the giant's gem thereon;
With wondrous light it flashed and shone
As brightly as the sun.

And as this flashing lustre flamed
From Milo's shield afar,
With joyous shout the king exclaimed:
“Hail, Milo! famed in war!
By thee the dreadful giant bled,
'Tis thou hast severed hand and head,
And rent from him the gem!”

Amazed, Sir Milo turned to see
The wondrous gleam intense—
“What, Roland! say, thou stripling wee!
How hast thou that, and whence?”—
“Dear father, be not wroth, I pray,
That I the monster dared to slay
While thou wast sound asleep!”