Savor the power of the language in this stanza from G. K. Chesterton’s tribute to the Battle of Lepanto:
Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,That once went singing southward when all the world was young,In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,Comes up along a winding road the noise of the Crusade.Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far,Don John of Austria is going to the war,Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts coldIn the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums,Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.Love-light of Spain—hurrah!Death-light of Africa!Don John of AustriaIs riding to the sea.
The rest is just as good. Whole thing here.
RT @DrJimHamilton: Lepanto by G. K. Chesterton: Savor the power of the language in this stanza from a G. K. Chesterton poem http://t.co/qGL…
Pretty good, but I think we all would have enjoyed a limerick better.
Leave a comment