Saturday, June 13, 2009

Gilbert Rhys Maclachlan - Fighter Poem - sonnet, acrostic

Gilbert Rhys Maclachlan
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXXI

(sonnet and acrostic)

My lady, I would win for you a crown
Of palest silver, fitted for a queen.
Rare jewels I would scatter on the ground
As numerous as fallen leaves they'd seem.
Never would a fairer grace the land
Nor walk among the populace adored.
With purity of heart, all I command -
I'd bring them to their knees upon the sward.
Let me but don your favor for display;
Let it remind me whose honor I bear.
Opponents may defeat me in the fray
When tested to my mettle, I do swear:
Evening might grant another royal part;
Never will another rule my heart.

-- Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler a 15th century Burgundian wool merchant who thinks she's a 10th century Viking weaver.

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