17
These for a princely present are divined,
And shew the giver is not far behind.
The talk increases now, and now advance,
Space after space, with many a sprightly prance,
The pages of the court, in rows of three;
Of white and crimson is their livery.
Space after space,—and yet the attendants come,—
And deeper goes about the impatient hum—
Ah—yes—no—'tis not he—but 'tis the squires
Who go before him when his pomp requires;
And now his huntsman shews the lessening train,
Now the squire-carver, and the chamberlain,—
And now his banner comes, and now his shield
Borne by the squire that waits him to the field,—
And then an interval,—a lordly space;—
A pin-drop silence strikes o'er all the place:
The princess, from a distance, scarcely knows
Which way to look; her colour comes and goes;
And shew the giver is not far behind.
The talk increases now, and now advance,
Space after space, with many a sprightly prance,
The pages of the court, in rows of three;
Of white and crimson is their livery.
Space after space,—and yet the attendants come,—
And deeper goes about the impatient hum—
Ah—yes—no—'tis not he—but 'tis the squires
Who go before him when his pomp requires;
And now his huntsman shews the lessening train,
Now the squire-carver, and the chamberlain,—
And now his banner comes, and now his shield
Borne by the squire that waits him to the field,—
And then an interval,—a lordly space;—
A pin-drop silence strikes o'er all the place:
The princess, from a distance, scarcely knows
Which way to look; her colour comes and goes;
