Classic Poem

THE CONQUEST

" Since the Conquest none of us
Has died young except in battle. "
I knew that hers was no mean house,
And that beneath her innocent prattle
There was likely hid in words
What could never anger Fame;
The glory of continuous swords,
The obligations of a name.
Had I grown incredulous,
Thinking for a little space:
Though she has the daring brows,
She has not the falcon face;
In the storm from days of old
It is hard to keep at poise,
And it is the over-bold,
Gallant-hearted, Fate destroys:
Could I doubt that her forbears
Kept their foot-hold on the sands,
Triumphed through eight hundred years,
From the hucksters kept their lands,
And still kept the conquering knack —
I who had myself gone down
Without waiting the attack
Of their youngest daughter's frown?