Classic Poem

A GOLDEN gilliflower today
I wore upon my helm alway,
And won the prize of this tourney.
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

However well Sir Giles might sit,
His sun was weak to wither it;
Lord Miles's blood was dew on it:
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Although my spear in splinters flew,
From John's steel-coat, my eye was true;
I wheel'd about, and cried for you,
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Yea, do not doubt my heart was good,
Though my sword flew like rotten wood,
To shout, although I scarcely stood,
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

My hand was steady too, to take
My axe from round my neck, and break
John's steel-coat up for my love's sake.
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

When I stood in my tent again,
Arming afresh, I felt a pain
Take hold of me, I was so fain —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

To hear " Honneur aux fils des preux! "
Right in my ears again, and shew
The gilliflower blossomed new.
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

The Sieur Guillaume against me came,
His tabard bore three points of flame
From a red heart: with little blame —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Our tough spears crackled up like straw;
He was the first to turn and draw
His sword, that had nor speck nor flaw, —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

But I felt weaker than a maid,
And my brain, dizzied and afraid,
Within my helm a fierce tune play'd, —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Until I thought of your dear head,
Bow'd to the gilliflower bed,
The yellow flowers stain'd with red; —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Crash! how the swords met, " giroflee! "
The fierce tune in my helm would play,
" La belle! la belle! jaune giroflee! "
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

Once more the great swords met again,
" La belle! la belle! " but who fell then?
Le Sieur Guillaume, who struck down ten; —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

And as with mazed and unarm'd face
Toward my own crown and the Queen's place,
They led me at a gentle pace —
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.

I almost saw your quiet head
Bow'd o'er the gilliflower bed,
The yellow flowers stain'd with red.
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee.