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Echoes
from Vagabondia
by
Bliss Carman
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THE
DREAMERS
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CHARLEMAGNE
with knight and lord,
In the hill at Ingelheim,
Slumbers at the council board,
Seated waiting for the time.
With their swords across their knees
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5 |
In that
chamber dimly lit,
Chin on breast like effigies
Of the dreaming gods, they sit.
Long ago they went to sleep,
While great wars above them hurled,
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10 |
Taking
counsel how to keep
Giant evil from the world.
Golden-armored, iron-crowned,
There in silence they await
The last war,—in war renowned,
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15 |
| Done
with doubting and debate.
What is all our clamor for?
Petty virtue, puny crime,
Beat in vain against the door
Of the hill at Ingelheim.
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20 |
When at last shall dawn the day
For the saving of the world,
They will forth in war array,
Iron-armored, golden-curled.
In the hill at Ingelheim,
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25 |
Still,
they say, the Emperor,
Like a warrior in his prime,
Waits the message at the door.
Shall the long enduring fight
Break above our heads in vain,
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30 |
Plunged
in lethargy and night,
Like the men of Charlemagne?
Comrades, through the Council Hall
Of the heart, inert and dumb,
Hear ye not the summoning call,
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35 |
| “Up,
my lords, the hour is come!” |
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