The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed With a Memoir by the Rev. Derwent Coleridge. Fourth Edition. In Two Volumes |
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 | The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed |  |
Ere long, Sir Isumbras began
To be a sad and thoughtful man:
They said the glance of an evil eye
Had been on the Knight's prosperity:
Less swift on the quarry his falcon went,
Less true was his hound on the wild deer's scent,
And thrice in the list he came to the earth
By the luckless chance of a broken girth.
And Poverty soon in her rage was seen
At the board where Plenty erst had been;
And the guests smiled not as they smiled before,
And the song of the minstrel was heard no more;
And a base ingrate, who was his foe,
Because, a little month ago,
He had cut him down, with friendly ardour,
From a rusty hook in an ogre's larder,
Invented an atrocious fable,
And ruined him quite at the royal table:
And she at last, the worshipped one,
For whom his valorous deeds were done,
The star of all his soul's reflections,
The rose of all his heart's affections,
Who had heard his vows, and worn his jewels,
And made him fight so many duels,—
She too, when Fate's relentless wheel
Deprived him of the Privy Seal,
Bestowed her smiles upon another,
And gave his letters to her mother.
To be a sad and thoughtful man:
They said the glance of an evil eye
Had been on the Knight's prosperity:
Less swift on the quarry his falcon went,
Less true was his hound on the wild deer's scent,
And thrice in the list he came to the earth
By the luckless chance of a broken girth.
And Poverty soon in her rage was seen
At the board where Plenty erst had been;
And the guests smiled not as they smiled before,
And the song of the minstrel was heard no more;
And a base ingrate, who was his foe,
Because, a little month ago,
He had cut him down, with friendly ardour,
From a rusty hook in an ogre's larder,
135
And ruined him quite at the royal table:
And she at last, the worshipped one,
For whom his valorous deeds were done,
The star of all his soul's reflections,
The rose of all his heart's affections,
Who had heard his vows, and worn his jewels,
And made him fight so many duels,—
She too, when Fate's relentless wheel
Deprived him of the Privy Seal,
Bestowed her smiles upon another,
And gave his letters to her mother.
| The Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed | |