Nor did his kindness yield a sparing meed
To the poor pilgrim, in his lowly weed;
Nor less to those who erst, in fight renown'd,
Had borne the bloody cross, and warr'd on paynim ground:
Yet, as his best belov'd so lately told,
His unexhausted purse o'erflow'd with gold.
But what far dearer solace did impart,
And thrill'd with thankfulness his loyal heart,
Was the choice privilege, that, night or day,
Whene'er his whisper'd prayer invok'd the fay,
That loveliest form, surpassing mortal charms,
Bless'd his fond eyes, and fill'd his circling arms.

Now shall ye hear how these delights so pure
Chang'd all to trouble and discomfiture.

'Twas on the solemn feast of sainted John,
When knights past tale did in the castle won,
That, supper done, 'twas will'd they all should fare
Forth to the orchard green, awhile to ramble there.
The queen, who long had mark'd, with much delight,
The gallant graces of the Breton knight,
Soon, from the window of her lofty tower,
Mid the gay band espied him in a bower,
And turning to her dames with blythe intent,
'Hence, all!' she cried; 'we join the merriment!'
All took the word, to the gay band they hied,
The queen, besure, was close to Lanval's side,
Sprightly she seem'd, and sportfully did toy,
And caught his hand to dance, and led the general joy,

Lanval alone was dull where all was gay,
His thoughts were fixed on his lovely fay:
Soon as he deftly might, he fled the throng;
And her dear name nigh trembled on his tongue,
When the fond queen, who well had trac'd his flight,
Stepp'd forth, and cross'd his disappointed sight.
Much had she sought to meet the knight alone;
Now in these words she made her passion known:
'Lanval!' she said, 'thy worth, long season past,
'In my deserv'd esteem hath fix'd thee fast:
'Tis thine this prosperous presage to improve:--
Say, gentle knight, canst thou return my love?

The knight, ye wot, love's paragon ador'd,
And, had his heart been free, rever'd his word;
True to his king, the fealty of his soul
Abhorr'd all commerce with a thought so foul.
In fine, the sequel of my tale to tell,
From the shent queen such bitter slander fell,
That, with an honest indignation strong,
The fatal secret 'scap'd Sir Lanval's tongue:
'Yes!' he declar'd, 'he felt love's fu