That, if she loved the harp to hear, He could make music to her ear. The humble boon was soon obtained; And then, he said, he would full fain He could recall an ancient strain, He never thought to sing again. It was not framed for village churls, He had played it to King Charles the Good, And much he wished, yet feared, to try Amid the strings his fingers strayed, And an uncertain warbling made— And oft he shook his hoary head: But when he caught the measure wild, The old man raised his face, and smiled; And lightened up his faded eye, With all a poet's ecstasy! In varying cadence, soft or strong, He swept the sounding chords along: The present scene, the future lot, CANTO FIRST. 1. THE feast was over in Branksome tower, And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower; Jesu Maria, shield us well! No living wight save the Ladye alone, Or crowded round the ample fire. 3. Nine-and-twenty knights of fame Hung their shields in Branksome Hall; Brought them their steeds from bower to stall; Waited, duteous, on them all: 4. Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred. 5. Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, Lest Scroop, or Howard, or Percy's powers, |