The Ladies' Garland

POETRY.
SIR GUILBERT.
(Founded on the Answer given by a Norman Knight to William the Conqueror.)
(FROM THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.)
Why is thy bark upon the sea--
Thy sail spread for the wind
That vessel may go on her way,
But thou must stay behind.
I've seen thee stand knee deep in blood,
In battle by my side;
And both thy faith and loyalty
Are like thy good sword tried.
Look round! 'tis not this a fair land
Are not its daughters fair
Are not its castles stately ones
Choose thou and have thy share
"No: Conqueror, no," Sir Guilbert said,
"My portion is not here;
The air bears on't the widow's curse,
The ground the orphan's tear.
I won thy banner as a knight,
And not as a brigand:
My soldier's duty done I will
Away to mine own land.
I will not have your English ground,
Nor yet your English dame:
I came but with my sword and steed,
I will go as I came.
A little tower in Normandie
Was where I had my birth:
I will return to it,--no blood
Cries from my father's hearth.
Sir King, thou art as brave a knight
As e'er stemm'd battle wave;
But thy heart's temper'd as thy hand,
Thou art as stern as brave.
For me, I am of softer mould,
I cannot bear the moan
That haunts me here; whate'er my home,
At least it is mine own.
The breeze is rising on the sea,
I see the white sails swell;
My bark is waiting but for me,
Sir King, farewell! farewell!