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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE TROUBADOUR, by HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS First Line: Glowing with love, on fire for fame Last Line: Becomes the valiant troubadour.' | |||
GLOWING with love, on fire for fame, A Troubadour that hated sorrow, Beneath his Lady's window came, And thus he sung his last good morrow: 'My arm it is my country's right, My heart is in my true-love's bower; Gaily for love and fame to fight Befits the gallant Troubadour.' And while he march'd with helm on head And harp in hand, the descant rung, As, faithful to his favourite maid, The minstrel-burden still he sung: 'My arm it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; Resolved for love and fame to fight, I come, a gallant Troubadour.' Even when the battle-roar was deep, With dauntless heart he hew'd his way, 'Mid splintering lance and falchionsweep, And still was heard his warrior-lay: 'My life it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; For love to die, for fame to fight, Becomes the valiant Troubadour.' Alas! upon the bloody field He fell beneath the foeman's glaive, But still reclining on his shield, Expiring sung the exulting stave: 'My life it is my country's right, My heart is in my lady's bower; For love and fame to fall in fight Becomes the valiant Troubadour.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVALS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON NOT DEAD, BUT GONE BEFORE by ANTIPHANES LIFE AND DEATH by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE NORTH WIND IN OCTOBER by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES PRAYER FOR AMERICA by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN MASTER HUGUES OF SAXE-GOTHA by ROBERT BROWNING |
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