Poem by F. Warre Cornish, entitled "Mr. Frick's Rembrandt," 7 January 1913

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OFFICE OF H. C. FRICK
RECEIVED
JAN 7 1913
FORWARDED
REFERRED
ANSWERED

Mr. Frick's Rembrandt
F. Warre Cornish on "The Polish Rider in the
Spectator
Does he ride to a bridal, a triumph, a dance, or a
fray,
That he goes so alert yet so careless, so stern and
so gay?
Loose seat in the saddle, short stirrup, one hand
on the mane
Of the light stepping pony he guides with so easy
a rein.
What a grace in his armor barbaric ! sword, battle-
axe, bow.
Full sheaf of long arrows, the leopard-skin flaunting
below.
Heart -conqueror, surely- his own is not given,
awhile,
Till she comes who shall win for herself that
inscrutable smile.
What luck had his riding, I wonder, romantic and
bold?
For he rides into darkness; the story shall never
be told:
Did he charge at Vienna, and fall in a splendid
campaign?
Did he fly from the Cossack, and perish, ingloriously
slain?
Ah, chivalrous Poland, forgotten, dishonored, a
slave
To thyself and the stranger, fair, hapless, beloved
of the brave!

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