And ’neath a thousand[178] silver lamps a thousand courtiers[179] throng;
And proudly kindles Henry’s[180] eye—well pleased, I ween, to see
The land assemble all[181] its wealth of grace and chivalry;
But fairer far than all the rest who bask on fortune’s tide,
Effulgent in the light of youth, is she,[182] the new-made bride!
The homage of a thousand hearts—the fond deep love of one—
The hopes that dance around a life whose charms are but begun—
They lighten up her chestnut eye,[183] they mantle o’er her cheek,
They sparkle on her open brow, and high-souled joy bespeak;
Ah! who shall blame, if scarce that day, through all its brilliant hours,