Christine [pp. 335-353]

Christine: A Troubadour's Song.
Again the challenger's trumpet pealed
From the barbican, shrill and clear;
And the Savoyard reared his dinted shield,
Its motto, gold on an azure field ALLES ZU GOTT UND IIR."
To horse!-From the hills the dawning day
Looks down on the sleeping plain;
In the court-yard waiteth the gallant Grey,
And the castle rings with a joyous neigh
As the Knight and his steed meet again.
And the coal-black charger answers him
From the space beyond the gate,
From the level space, where dark and dim
In the morning mists, like giant grim,
The Fiend on his war-horse sate.
Oh, the men at arms how they stared aghast
When the Heir of Miolan leapt
To saddle-bow sounding his bugle-blast;
I-How the startled warder breathless gasped,
Ifow the hoary old seneschal wept!
And the fair-haired maid with a sob hath sprung
To the lifted bridle rein;
Fast to his knee her white arms clung,
While the waving gold of her fair hair hung
MIixed with Grey Caliph's mane.
"O Miolan's heir, O master mine,
O more than heaven adored,
Live to forget this slave of thine,
Wed the d(ark-eyed Mlaid of Palestine,
But dare not yon demon sword!"
But the Baron thundered, " Off with the slave!"
And they tore the white arms away,
"A woman's a curse ill the path of the brave;
Level thy lance and upon the knave,
For he laughs at this fool delay!
"But pledge me first in this beaker bright
Of foaming Cyprian wine;
Thou hast fasted, God wot, like an anchorite,
Thy cheeks and brow are a trifle white,
And,'fore heaven, thou shall bear thee in this fight
As beseemeth son of mine!"
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