Alexowitz Poem by Sir John Hanmer

Thus said the young Alexowitz, by Danube's sweeping side,
A hundred chiefs their vassals rule, in pomp and power, and pride;
While I, whose lordly sires bore sway, o'er wide Croatia's ban,
Now stand within their roofless halls a lone and landless man.


But think not I am come to mourn o'er hopes that flew away,
Like morning stars at dawning bright, but vanished with the day,
I come but on their threshold to whet my father's sword,
If fiefs and friends are mine no more, of that I still am lord:


I come to twine old memories with the hope of future days,
And link the phantom of their fame, with that which I will raise;
And if my cloak is scanty, and the winter wind is cold,
I'll think of how it howls in thee, my lost ancestral hold.


The Baron rides in coat of mail, the Churchman robed in fur,
And this must watch through vigils pale, and that the war-horse spur;
And what have they that I have not? high place and proud degree,
As high as their's, nor all forgot, once more my name may be.


I'll rear it by the banks of Rhine, in joyous Allemayne,
I'll rear it in thy gorgeous court, oh double-sceptred Spain;
For like the wind that wanders where it lists, a voice within,
Cries come with me, as bold as free, nor doubt while others win.