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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lines Upon My Sister’s Portrait</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The castle towers of Bareacres are fair upon the lea,<br>Where the cliffs of bonny Diddlesex rise up from out the sea:<br>I stood upon the donjon keep and view'd the country o'er,<br>I saw the lands of Bareacres for fifty miles or more.<br>I stood upon the donjon keep—it is a sacred place,—<br>Where floated for eight hundred years the banner of my race;<br>Argent, a dexter sinople, and gules an azure field:<br>There ne'er was nobler cognizance on knightly warrior's shield.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The first time England saw the shield 'twas round a Norman neck,<br>On board a ship from Valery, King William was on deck.<br>A Norman lance the colors wore, in Hastings' fatal fray—<br>St. Willibald for Bareacres! 'twas double gules that day!<br>O Heaven and sweet St. Willibald! in many a battle since<br>A loyal-hearted Bareacres has ridden by his Prince!<br>At Acre with Plantagenet, with Edward at Poictiers,<br>The pennon of the Bareacres was foremost on the spears!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Twas pleasant in the battle-shock to hear our war-cry ringing:<br>Oh grant me, sweet St. Willibald, to listen to such singing!<br>Three hundred steel-clad gentlemen, we drove the foe before us,<br>And thirty score of British bows kept twanging to the chorus!<br>O knights, my noble ancestors! and shall I never hear<br>St. Willibald for Bareacres through battle ringing clear?<br>I'd cut me off this strong right hand a single hour to ride,<br>And strike a blow for Bareacres, my fathers, at your side!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=538711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Dash down, dash down, yon Mandolin, beloved sister mine!<br>Those blushing lips may never sing the glories of our line:<br>Our ancient castles echo to the clumsy feet of churls,<br>The spinning-jenny houses in the mansion of our Earls.<br>Sing not, sing not, my Angeline! in days so base and vile,<br>'Twere sinful to be happy, 'twere sacrilege to smile.<br>I'll hie me to my lonely hall, and by its cheerless hob<br>I'll muse on other days, and wish—and wish I were—A SNOB.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Makepeace+Thackeray">William Makepeace Thackeray</a></strong></div>

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