I sing of days in which brave deeds of arms
And deeds of song went hand in hand: our kings
Heroic feelings had and owned the charms
Of minstrel lore--they loved the magic strings
More than the sceptre; still their kingdom rings
With their gay musings and their harpings high.
To noble deeds fair poesie lends wings;
She lifts them up from grovelling earth to sky,
And bids them sit in light, and live and never die.