O god! how sweet the kisses were
Upon her lips and breast and brow
Amid the glory of her hair—
Ah folly, to remember now
When I am old and soon to die!
—Sirs, to my tale. So passed away
The golden days most happily
In many a quaint disport and play.
For there were tiltings with the spear,
Music in gardens and in halls,
And converse with our ladies dear,
And dancing between golden walls.
And beautiful old tales were sung
By minstrels that were well beseen
On fair long wooden stages hung
With palaces, and gardens green.
Wedding (big) and ladies being christened
And soon the maids were christened
With much pomp in the great church, then
Full richly were we fellows wed
And were the happiest of all men.
