From Vive la Reine.
~ from Capet, éveille-toi! ShareA fair child fleeing from the world's fierce hate,In his blue eye the shade of sorrow sate,
His golden hair hung all dishevelled downOn wasted cheeks that told a mournful story,
And angels twined him with the innocent's crown,The martyr's palm of glory.The virgin souls that to the Lamb are near,Called through the clouds with voices heavenly clear,
"God hath prepared a glory for thy brow;Rest in his arms, and all ye hosts that sing
His praised ever on untired string,Chant, for a mortal comes among ye now;
Do homage,--'tis a king!"