ome,
To my poor father's land.

13 The bell tolled from the turret gray,
Cold freezing fell the dew,
To the portcullis hastening back
The female train withdrew.

14 Those turrets and the battlements,
Time and the storm had beat,
And sullenly the ocean tide
Came rolling at his feet.

15 Young Talbot cast away his staff,
The harp is in his hand,
A minstrel at the castle gate,
A porter saw him stand.

16 And who art thou, the porter cried,
Young troubadour, now say,
For welcome in the castle hall
Will be to-night thy lay;

17 For this the birthday is of one,
Whose father now is cold;
An English maiden, rich in fee,
And this year twelve years old.

18 I love, myself, now growing old,
To hear the wild harp's sound:
But whence, young harper, dost thou come,
And whither art thou bound?

19 Though I am young, the harper said,
From Syria's sands I come,
A minstrel warrior of the Cross,
Now poor and wandering home.

20 And I can tell of mighty deeds,
By bold King Richard done,
King Richard of "the Lion's heart,"
Foes quail to look upon.

21 Then lead me to the castle hall,
And let the fire be bright,
For never hall nor bower hath heard
A lay like mine to-night.

22 The windows gleam within the hall,
The fire is blazing bright,
And the young harper's hair and harp
Are shining in the light.

23 Fair dames and warriors clad in steel
Now gather round to hear,
And oft that little maiden's eyes
Are glistening with a tear.

24 For, when the minstrel sang of wars,
At times, with softer sound,
He touched the chords, as mourning those
Now laid in the cold ground.

25 He sang how brave King Richard pined
In a dark tower immured,
And of the long and weary nights,
A captive, he endured.

26 The faithful Blondel to his harp
One song began to sing;
It ceased; the king takes up the strain;
It is his lord and king!

27 Of Sarum then, and Sarum's plain,
That poor child heard him speak,
When the first tear-drop in her eye
Fell silent on her cheek.

28 For, as the minstrel told his tale,