Aubrey De Vere

The Council of Clermont

AMID the throng the Hermit stood; so wan,
Careworn, and travel-soiled; with genius high
Throned on his brow, shrined in his spiritual eye.
The Hermit spake, and through the council ran
A tremor, not of fear; as in the van,
Chafing before embattled chivalry,
A proud steed listens for the clarion’s cry,
So sprang they to their feet: and every man,
Pontiff and prince, prelate and peer, caught up
Their swords, and kissed the crosiered hilts, and swore,
As though their lips the sacramental cup
Had touched, Christ’s sepulchre to free! The shore
Of Asia heard that sound, in thunder hurled,—
“Deus id vult,”—from Clermont through the world!