Thou In Whose Sword-Great Story Shine The Deeds

Thou in whose sword-great story shine the deeds Of history her heroes, sounds the tread Of those vast armies of the marching dead, With standards and the neighing of great steeds Moving to war across the smiling meads; Thou by whose page we break the precious bread Of dear communion with the past, and wed To valor, battle with heroic breeds; Thou, Froissart, for that thou didst love the pen While others wrote in steel, accept all praise Of after ages, and of hungering days For whom the old glories move, the old trumpets cry; Who gav’st as one of those immortal men His life that his fair city might not die.