Marking its cadence rise and fail, Of one, who, in his simple mind, But thou, my friend, canst fitly tell, (For few have read romance so well) How still the legendary lay O'er poet's bosom holds its sway; How on the ancient minstrel strain Time lays his palsied hand in vain ; Enters Morgana's fated house, Or in the Chapel Perilous, Despising spells and demons' force, Holds converse with the unburied corse; Or when, Dame Ganore's grace to move, (Alas! that lawless was their love) He sought proud Tarquin in his den, He took the Sangreal's holy quest, He might not view with waking eye. The mightiest chiefs of British song Scorned not such legends to prolong: They gleam through Spenser's elfin dream, And mix in Milton's heavenly theme; And Dryden, in immortal strain, Had raised the Table Round again, B But that a ribald king and court Bade him toil on, to make them sport; Fit for their souls, a looser lay, Licentious satire, song, and play : The world defrauded of the high design, Prophaned the God-given strength, and marred the lofty line. Warmed by such names, well may we then, Though dwindled sons of little men, Essay to break a feeble lance In the fair fields of old romance; Or seek the moated castle's cell, Where long through talisman and spell, Thy Genius, Chivalry, hath slept : On venturous quest to prick again, In all his arms, with all his train, Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf, Fay, giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf, And wizard with his wand of might, And errant maid on palfrey white. And gentle Courtesy; and Faith, Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death; And Valour, lion-mettled lord, Leaning upon his own good sword. Well has thy fair achievement shown, A worthy meed may thus be won; Ytene's oaks-beneath whose shade Their theme the merry minstrels made, And that Red King,† who, while of old, By his loved huntsman's arrow bled— Ytene's oaks have heard again Renewed such legendary strain; For thou hast sung, how He of Gaul, That Amadis so famed in hall, For Oriana, foiled in fight The Necromancer's felon might; And well in modern verse hast wove Partenopex's mystic love: Hear then, attentive to my lay, A knightly tale of Albion's elder day. The New Forest in Hampshire, anciently so called. William Rufus. |