Determin’d to conquer and never to yield
To any power but the power above,
For the sake of his bright-eyed lady-love.
I sing of the tournaments of old,
When every knight with a spirit bold,
Dash’d his gauntlet into the ring,
Defying all comers from peasant to king.
Strange times were these, when the Lord of the Castle,
With bondsmen and freemen excited with wassail,
Rush’d on their neighbours by day and by night,