University of Virginia Library


34

THE NIGHT OF THE SALLY.

The wind plays with the tight strings of the fiddle,
The chaplain's fiddle hanging on the wall,
And shakes the hawk-bells where they hang,
And the feathers, red and tall,
Of the Baron and his three and forty troopers,
Singing the loud hunting chorus in the hall.
They join hands, clashing flagons, shouting, drinking,
Lifting their red Venice glasses to the light,
Shaking their corslets, laughing, flouting,
Their fierce eyes sad but bright;
For the Baron and his three and forty troopers
Are all sworn to die together on this night.

35

One strokes the staghounds leaping from their couples,
One pulls the jester screaming by the ear,
A third says a quick prayer with the chaplain,
A fourth breaks out into a cheer;
For the Baron and his three and forty troopers
Are stout men who never know a fear.