The Song of Roland
Frederick Goldin
Sold by World of Books Inc, Montgomery, IL, U.S.A.
AbeBooks Seller since March 23, 2026
Used - Soft cover
Condition: Used - Fair
Ships within U.S.A.
Quantity: 1 available
Add to basketSold by World of Books Inc, Montgomery, IL, U.S.A.
AbeBooks Seller since March 23, 2026
Condition: Used - Fair
Quantity: 1 available
Add to basketNo king, no captain ever stood with better. Roland looks up on the mountains and slopes, sees the French dead, so many good men fallen, and weeps for them, as a great warrior weeps: "Barons, my lords, may God give you his grace, may he grant Paradise to all your souls, make them lie down among the holy flowers. I never saw better vassals than you. All the years you've served me, and all the times, the mighty lands you conquered for Charles our King! The Emperor raised you for this terrible hour! Land of France, how sweet you are, native land, laid waste this day, ravaged, made a desert. Barons of France, I see you die for me, and I, your lord--I cannot protect you. May God come to your aid, that God who never failed. --Excerpt from The Song of Roland.
Seller Inventory # CIN0393090086A
The Song of Roland, one of the earliest medieval epic poems, was written in France in about 1100. The poem is based on an incident during Charlemagne’s wars against Muslims in Spain. Charlemagne puts his nephew, Count Roland, in charge of the rearguard as French knights retreat. The rearguard is attacked by a much larger Arab army, and Roland waits too long to summon Charlemagne’s help.
No king, no captain ever stood with better. Roland looks up on the mountains and slopes, sees the French dead, so many good men fallen, and weeps for them, as a great warrior weeps: “Barons, my lords, may God give you his grace, may he grant Paradise to all your souls, make them lie down among the holy flowers. I never saw better vassals than you. All the years you’ve served me, and all the times, the mighty lands you conquered for Charles our King! The Emperor raised you for this terrible hour! Land of France, how sweet you are, native land, laid waste this day, ravaged, made a desert. Barons of France, I see you die for me, and I, your lord―I cannot protect you. May God come to your aid, that God who never failed. ―Excerpt from The Song of Roland"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
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