Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Days of Chivalry
The Days of Chivalry.
Alas! the days of chivalry are fled!
The brilliant tournament exists no more!
Our loves are cold, and dull as ice or lead,
And courting is a most.enormous bore!
The brilliant tournament exists no more!
Our loves are cold, and dull as ice or lead,
And courting is a most.enormous bore!
In those good "olden times," a "ladye bright"
Might sit within her turret or her bower,
While lovers sang and played without all night,
And deemed themselves rewarded by a flower.
Might sit within her turret or her bower,
While lovers sang and played without all night,
And deemed themselves rewarded by a flower.
Yet, if one favoured swain would persevere,
In despite of her haughty scorn and laugh,
Perchance she threw him, with the closing year,
An old odd glove, or else a worn-out scarf.
In despite of her haughty scorn and laugh,
Perchance she threw him, with the closing year,
An old odd glove, or else a worn-out scarf.
And he a thousand oaths of love would swear,
As in an ecstasy he caught the prize,
Then would he gallop off, no one knows where,
Telling another thousand monstrous lies;
As in an ecstasy he caught the prize,
Then would he gallop off, no one knows where,
Telling another thousand monstrous lies;
All picturing her matchless beauty, which
He might discern, I ween, not much about,
Seeing he could but see her 'cross the ditch
As she between the lattice peeped out.
He might discern, I ween, not much about,
Seeing he could but see her 'cross the ditch
As she between the lattice peeped out.
Off then, away he'd ride o'er sea and land,
And dragons fell and mighty giants smite,
With the tough spear he carried in his hand;
And all to prove himself her own true knight.
And dragons fell and mighty giants smite,
With the tough spear he carried in his hand;
And all to prove himself her own true knight.
Meanwhile a thousand more, as wild as he,
Were all employed upon the self-same thing;
And when each knight had rode hard for his "ladye,"
They all came back and met within a ring.
Were all employed upon the self-same thing;
And when each knight had rode hard for his "ladye,"
They all came back and met within a ring.
Where all the men who were entitled "syr"
Appeared with martial air and haughty frown,
Bearing "long poles, each other up to stir,"
And, in the stir up, thrust each other down.
Appeared with martial air and haughty frown,
Bearing "long poles, each other up to stir,"
And, in the stir up, thrust each other down.
And then they galloped round with dire intent,
Each knight resolved another's pride to humble;
And laughter rang around the tournament
As oft as any of them had a tumble.
Each knight resolved another's pride to humble;
And laughter rang around the tournament
As oft as any of them had a tumble.
And when, perchance, some ill-starred wight might die,
The victim of a stout, unlucky poke,
Mayhap some fair one wiped one beauteous eye,
The rest smiled calmly on the deadly joke.
The victim of a stout, unlucky poke,
Mayhap some fair one wiped one beauteous eye,
The rest smiled calmly on the deadly joke.
Soon, then, the lady, whose grim stalwart swain
Had got the strongest horse and toughest pole,
Bedecked him, kneeling, with a golden chain,
And plighted troth before the motley whole.
Had got the strongest horse and toughest pole,
Bedecked him, kneeling, with a golden chain,
And plighted troth before the motley whole.
Then trumpets sounded, bullocks whole were drest,
Priests with shorn heads and lengthy beards were seen;
'Midst clamorous shouts the happy pair were blest,
For chivalry won Beauty's chosen queen.
Priests with shorn heads and lengthy beards were seen;
'Midst clamorous shouts the happy pair were blest,
For chivalry won Beauty's chosen queen.
And when fair daughters bloomed like beauteous flowers,
To bless the gallant knight and stately dame,
They shut them up within their lonely towers,
That squires might fight for them and win their fame.
To bless the gallant knight and stately dame,
They shut them up within their lonely towers,
That squires might fight for them and win their fame.
But maidens now from hall and park are brought,
Like Covent Garden flowers, in lots, to town;
No more by prowess in the lists 'tis sought,
Beauty's the purchase of the wealthiest clown!
Like Covent Garden flowers, in lots, to town;
No more by prowess in the lists 'tis sought,
Beauty's the purchase of the wealthiest clown!
Alas! the days of chivalry are fled!
The brilliant tournament exists no more!
Men now are cold, and dull as ice or lead,
And even courtship is a dreadful bore!
The brilliant tournament exists no more!
Men now are cold, and dull as ice or lead,
And even courtship is a dreadful bore!