Like some rare queen of old romance <br />Who loved the gleam of helm and lance <br />Is she. <br />A harper of King Arthur's days <br />Should praise her in a hundred lays: <br />The queen of Love and Chivalry — <br />O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie. <br />And crown-wise plaited is her hair, <br />No crown of woven gold more fair <br />Could be. <br />And very queen-like, too, the smile <br />That lightens every little while <br />A face too fair for men to see, <br />O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie. <br />She is not over kind, I know; <br />The queens were gracious long ago, <br />Ah me! <br />Queen Guenevere would give a kiss <br />Ofttimes to Launcelot, I wis — <br />I would that I were loved as he! <br />O Dieu te garde, mon coeur, ma vie,<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-ii-3/
