Classic Poem

Thy beauty is bugle and banner — bugle, and banner, and prize!
I march to the beat of thy heart, and the oriflamme of thine eyes.
My falchion flashes thy smile, as I fight to the far-off goal —
The star of love that burns on the battlement of thy soul.
O Queen! the bugle is blowing, the banners flutter and stream;
Thy heart is beating such music, I fight as one in a dream.
I am blind; in my blood there is thunder; there is lightning around and above;
I have cloven a cohort asunder, I swoon on the ramparts of love.