Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Fuess and Stearns, comps. The Little Book of Society Verse. 1922.

By. Edward Fitzgerald

Chivalry at a Discount

FAIR cousin mine! the golden days

Of old romance are over;

And minstrels now care nought for bays,

Nor damsels for a lover;

And hearts are cold, and lips are mute

That kindled once with passion,

And now we’ve neither lance nor lute,

And tilting ’s out of fashion.

Yet weeping Beauty mourns the time

When Love found words in flowers;

When softest sighs were breathed in rhyme,

And sweetest songs in bowers;

Now wedlock is a sober thing—

No more of chains or forges!—

A plain young man—a plain gold ring—

The curate—and St. George’s.

Then every cross-bow had a string,

And every heart a fetter;

And making love was quite the thing,

And making verses better;

And maiden aunts were never seen,

And gallant beaux were plenty;

And lasses married at sixteen,

And died at one-and-twenty.

Then hawking was a noble sport,

And chess a pretty science;

And huntsmen learned to blow à mort,

And heralds a defiance.

And knights and spearmen show’d their might,

And timid hinds took warning;

And hypocras was warm’d at night

And coursers in the morning.

Then plumes and pennons were prepared,

And patron saints were lauded;

And noble deeds were bravely dared,

And noble dames applauded;

And Beauty play’d the leech’s part,

And wounds were heal’d with syrup;

And warriors sometimes lost a heart,

But never lost a stirrup.

Then there was no such thing as Fear,

And no such word as Reason;

And Faith was like a pointed spear,

And fickleness was treason;

And hearts were soft, though blows were hard;

But when the fight was over,

A brimming goblet cheer’d the board,

His Lady’s smile the lover.

Ay, those were glorious days! The moon

Had then her true adorers;

And there were lyres and lutes in tune,

And no such thing as snorers;

And lovers swam, and held at nought

Streams broader than the Mersey;

And fifty thousand would have fought

For a smile from Lady Jersey.

Then people wore an iron vest,

And had no use for tailors;

And the artizans who lived the best

Were armourers and nailers:

And steel was measured by the ell,

And trousers lined with leather;

And jesters wore a cap and bell,

And knights a cap and feather.

Then single folks might live at ease,

And married ones might sever;

Uncommon doctors had their fees,

But Doctors’ Commons never;

O! had we in those times been bred,

Fair cousin, for thy glances,

Instead of breaking Priscian’s head,

I had been breaking lances!