Classic Poem

O rosy fair and rosy sweet
And breathing rosy breath divine
Is she the lady with thorny feet
The lovely lady Eglantine.

With thorny feet and beauteous face
And lips of budding tenderness,
Among the dewy woodland ways
She lavishes her loveliness.

Slowly [?] wakes the summer morn
With glow & blue to look on her
But wherefore grows the crimson thorn
Upon a thing so sweet and fair?

It is a tale of the olden time
When legends hung round kings & queens,
When fairies charmed the blooming clime
And danced in rings the circling greens,

When love was deep in fairy lore
And fairy lore was pledged to love
When keen enchantment thrill'd the shore
From mystic seas & songs above —

When all the [?] possessed a life
And animated all the earth
And quickened all the budding [?] rife
To which the blooming clime gave birth.

O Eglantine o'er hill and dale!
The maiden queen with the golden crown
The fairy looks with the features pale
O Eglantine o'er vale & down!

And far and wide the rich renown
Brought silken knights across the sea
To win a smile or reap a frown —
And filled the land with chivalry,

A land that swarmed with spear and plume,
A land of sunny slopes & hills
And hollows full of moonlight gloom
And gleams of wizard whispering rills —

A summer land of festive wealth
And forests hushed with old romance
A land of mysteries and health
And vines and merry vintage dance,

A land of gold & green festoons,
A land of gray ancestral shapes,
With living glance of suns and moons
And fountains gushing rich as grapes.

O, Eglantine o'er sea and sky!
The golden crown with the snowy wreath
The snowy wreath with the blushing dye
O Eglantine o'er wood & heath!

And far and wide her fame doth breathe
And sweetens many a distant vale
And lightens many a sword from sheath
And swells out many a midday sail — !

And far and wide from North and South,
And far and wide from East and West,
Came many a blushing, blooming youth,
To pluck the Beauty for his breast.

And in the lists and in the field
With tilt and tourney throng to throng
Lance and steed and brand and shield
Their prowess served the minstrel's song.

The minstrel who with harp and voice
Would smite the golden quivering chords,
And woo the lovely lady's choice
With pleading & melodious words.

O Eglantine in glade and bower!
The fairy locks [?] and the lovely rose,
The lovely rose and the peerless flower —
O Eglantine o'er sun and snows!

And far and wide the rumour flows
Till all young hearts are keen awake
And lines [?] of cream white camps enclose
Her palace by the forest lake.


End of First Part.