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While shout the riders every one,
With bitter gibe and taunting jest;
And how Hob Armstrong cheered his wife;
Then, shunning still his powerful arm,
The venomed wound, and festering joint,
Long after rued that bodkin's point.
The startled yeoman swore and spurned,
And board and flaggons overturned;
Riot and clamour wild began;
Back to the hall the urchin ran;
Took, in a darkling nook, his post,
And grinned and muttered, "Lost! lost! lost!"
By this, the Dame, lest further fray
They sought the beeves that made their broth,
His simple song the Borderer said.
Blithely they saw the rising sun,
Though Love was still the lord of all!
Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
For ire that Love was lord of all !
For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall, And he swore her death ere he would see
A Scottish knight the lord of all !
XII. That wine she had not tasted well, The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall; When dead, in her true lover's arms, she fell, For Love was still the lord of all !
He pierced her brother to the heart,
So perish all would true love part,
That Love may still be lord of all !
And then he took the cross divine,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
And died for her sake in Palestine,
Now all ye lovers that faithful prove, The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
Pray for their souls who died for love,
For Love shall still be lord of all !
XIII. As ended Albert's simple lay, Arose a bard of loftier port; For sonnet, rhime, and roundelay, Renowned in haughty Henry's court: There rung thy harp, unrivalled long, Fitztraver of the silver song. The gentle Surrey loved his lyre— Who has not heard of Surrey's fame? His was the hero's soul of fire, And his the bard's immortal name, And his was love exalted high, By all the glow of chivalry.