Originally posted by jaywill
What might be a poetic significance of the pawn being able to gain a new queen on the last square of the opposing kingdom, I wonder?
Gladly I exchange my life, lowly pawn
that I have been, for my beloved queen
who had fallen far too young in the game,
far too young, and slain by a wicked knave
hidden in the battle-thicket—unseen
by my lady or her king—his sword drawn
to strike her down from ambush. O the shame!
And I a pawn with but a wooden stave
could not move so quick to save her, to lay
me down my life gladly for one so fair.
But, as the mightier have died, I stay
my steady course toward the final square,
where I yet will yield my life in her stead
and, by dying, raise my queen from the dead.