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the fall of chivalry.
The glory now which o'er them lies
Has often roused the rhymers' art,
And bound it to the nation's heart.
Oh! Chivalry! thy power no more
Is seen in wild and border war,
When in a feat of reckless fight,
Brought sorrow on some fearless knight!
Yes, thou art fled,—thy dreams are past,
And like a broken bowl, alas,
Fragments which show, though once entire,
The pride to which thou didst aspire.
The broken pieces show the frame
That made thy pride and worked thy fame.
Yet from thine ashes, like a phnix rise!
And soar o'er fames' triumphant sky.
A purer and a far more gentle time,
A goodly gift from a kind hand Divine!
Though we may sigh o'er its ruined fame,
And a sorrowing voice aloud proclaim,
Thy death must be, alas! for ever more,
And thy reign a forgotten dream of yore!
Has often roused the rhymers' art,
And bound it to the nation's heart.
Oh! Chivalry! thy power no more
Is seen in wild and border war,
When in a feat of reckless fight,
Brought sorrow on some fearless knight!
Yes, thou art fled,—thy dreams are past,
And like a broken bowl, alas,
Fragments which show, though once entire,
The pride to which thou didst aspire.
The broken pieces show the frame
That made thy pride and worked thy fame.
Yet from thine ashes, like a phnix rise!
And soar o'er fames' triumphant sky.
A purer and a far more gentle time,
A goodly gift from a kind hand Divine!
Though we may sigh o'er its ruined fame,
And a sorrowing voice aloud proclaim,
Thy death must be, alas! for ever more,
And thy reign a forgotten dream of yore!
