And press the rue for wine.
A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien,
A feather of the blue,
A doublet of the Lincoln green,—
No more of me you knew,
My love!
No more of me you knew.”
And this other, far less familiar, which I quote from Lockhart’s Spanish Ballads, and which is fitly called “The Wandering Knight’s Song:”—
“My ornaments are arms,
My pastime is in war.