University of Virginia Library

Loathed his firm soul the measured chime
And florid films of modern rhyme:
No other lays became his tongue
But those his rude forefathers sung.
And when, by wandering minstrel warned,
The mandate of his queen he learned,
So much he prized the ancient strain,
High hopes had he the prize to gain.
With modest, yet majestic mein,
He tuned his harp of solemn strain:
Oh list the tale, ye fair and young,
A lay so strange was never sung!