Classic Poem

In Flanders, Italy and Franche-Compte
And Portugal he made his twelve campaigns;
Now he is forty, and in all the Spains
He is the oldest soldier, so they say.
Retired with honors, now he passes through
The arches of the plaza, solemnly,
The sunlight shedding native glory due
Unto his medals — stately champion he! —

Claiming the battlefield of Nancy still
As lost but at the Duke of Alba's will; —
His daughter's hand refusing haughtily
To rich Don Bela's scant nobility; —
Telling his deeds of prowess on a scroll
To Olivares for the pension roll.