Classic Poem

To Robert Gould Shaw

Flushed with the hope of high desire,
— He buckled on his sword,
To dare the rampart ranged with fire,
— Or where the thunder roared;
Into the smoke and flame he went,
— For God's great cause to die —
A youth of heaven's element,
— The flower of chivalry.

This was the gallant faith, I trow,
— Of which the sages tell;
On such devotion long ago
— The benediction fell;
And never nobler martyr burned,
— Or braver hero died,
Than he who worldly honor spurned
— To serve the Crucified.

And Lancelot and Sir Bedivere
— May pass beyond the pale,
And wander over moor and mere
— To find the Holy Grail;
But ever yet the prize forsooth
— My hero holds in fee;
And he is Blameless Knight in truth,
— And Galahad to me.