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Full Online Book HomePoemsThe Gilliflower Of Gold
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The Gilliflower Of Gold Post by :Mikeyp2 Category :Poems Author :William Morris Date :May 2011 Read :1441

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The Gilliflower Of Gold

A golden gilliflower to-day
I wore upon my helm alway,
And won the prize of this tourney.
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

However well Sir Giles might sit,
His sun was weak to wither it,
Lord Miles's blood was dew on it:
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Although my spear in splinters flew,
From John's steel-coat, my eye was true;
I wheel'd about, and cried for you,
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Yea, do not doubt my heart was good,
Though my sword flew like rotten wood,
To shout, although I scarcely stood,
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

My hand was steady too, to take
My axe from round my neck, and break
John's steel-coat up for my love's sake.
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

When I stood in my tent again,
Arming afresh, I felt a pain
Take hold of me, I was so fain,
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

To hear: _Honneur aux fils des preux!_
Right in my ears again, and shew
The gilliflower blossom'd new.
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

The Sieur Guillaume against me came,
His tabard bore three points of flame
From a red heart: with little blame,
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Our tough spears crackled up like straw;
He was the first to turn and draw
His sword, that had nor speck nor flaw;
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

But I felt weaker than a maid,
And my brain, dizzied and afraid,
Within my helm a fierce tune play'd,
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Until I thought of your dear head,
Bow'd to the gilliflower bed,
The yellow flowers stain'd with red;
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Crash! how the swords met: _giroflee!_
The fierce tune in my helm would play,
_La belle! la belle! jaune giroflee!
Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

Once more the great swords met again:
"_La belle! la belle!_" but who fell then?
Le Sieur Guillaume, who struck down ten;
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

And as with mazed and unarm'd face,
Toward my own crown and the Queen's place,
They led me at a gentle pace.
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._

I almost saw your quiet head
Bow'd o'er the gilliflower bed,
The yellow flowers stain'd with red.
_Hah! hah! la belle jaune giroflee._


(The end)
William Morris's poem: Gilliflower Of Gold

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