| |
| 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 | 5 |
| 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; | 10 |
| 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— | 15 |
| 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; | 20 |
| 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, | 25 |
| 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; | 30 |
| 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, | 35 |
| 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. | 40 |
| |
| 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; | 45 |
| 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; | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| 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: | 60 |
| 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, | 65 |
| 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, | 70 |
| Instead of breaking Priscian’s head, | |
| I had been breaking lances! | |
| |
