KNIGHT returned from Palestine—
From the Holy wars he came,
The red-cross blazed upon his shield
And breast, in scarlet flame.
THE ANEMONES OF THE PAMFILI DORI.
![A](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/1a/Poems_Eckley_A.jpg/55px-Poems_Eckley_A.jpg)
From the Holy wars he came,
The red-cross blazed upon his shield
And breast, in scarlet flame.
Within his mailèd glove he clasped
A flower of crimson hue,
From fields of Palestine it came,
In the Holy land it grew.
A flower of crimson hue,
From fields of Palestine it came,
In the Holy land it grew.
'Twas not for love of maiden, he
Had brought this flower so far,
To plant it here in Roman soil,
Christ's "blood-drop"[1] sacred, rare.
Had brought this flower so far,
To plant it here in Roman soil,
Christ's "blood-drop"[1] sacred, rare.
But down he stoop'd to fret the sod
Beneath the pine's dark shade,
With reverence laid the exile down
Where sun-light never strayed.
Beneath the pine's dark shade,
With reverence laid the exile down
Where sun-light never strayed.
Though it was born in shadeless clime,
Beneath hot Asia's skies,
Yet chose he now the dark moist bank,
Where feathery ferns entice.
Beneath hot Asia's skies,
Yet chose he now the dark moist bank,
Where feathery ferns entice.
But stranger still, and wonderful,
These scarlet flowers rare,
Then lost the dye of the crimson flood—
Was it by Christian's tear?
These scarlet flowers rare,
Then lost the dye of the crimson flood—
Was it by Christian's tear?
The blaze from off its cheek has fled,
'Tis faded, washed, aye gone,—
Still beautiful, tho' other shades
Now paint the grassy lawn.
'Tis faded, washed, aye gone,—
Still beautiful, tho' other shades
Now paint the grassy lawn.
Anemones, so rich, and fair,
So beautiful, so sweet,
Well do ye e'en now typify
Prints of Apostles' feet!
So beautiful, so sweet,
Well do ye e'en now typify
Prints of Apostles' feet!
But now the knight in marble sleeps,
The Cross carved at his feet,
His hands are clasped upon his breast,
And in them, pale and meet,
The Cross carved at his feet,
His hands are clasped upon his breast,
And in them, pale and meet,
The Anemones their petals raise
From out the sculptured tomb,
Tho' the flower that flushed Judea's hills
Has paler grown in Rome!
From out the sculptured tomb,
Tho' the flower that flushed Judea's hills
Has paler grown in Rome!
- ↑ The Anemones are called by the Oriental Christians "The Saviour's blood-drops," contrasting with the pagan myth, that Anemones are the blood-drops of Adonis.