Explore "Dahin" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O brow, so fronted with a stately calm, / O full completeness of true womanhood, / O counsel, pleader for all highest good, / Thou hast upon my sorrow poured thy balm!
Poor soldier he who did not raise his sword, / And, touching with his lips the hilt-cross, swear / In war or peace the livery to wear / Of one that blessed him with her queenly word.
Most base crusader, who at night and morn / Crying Dahin, thought not of her again / From whose sweet power was his knighthood born,
For whom he quells the valiant Saracen.
Shall I not, then, in the tumultuous place / Of my life's warfare ever seek thy face?