"Sweet maid, Lord Roland's beauteotis dove,
With arms more strong than harp or song,
Thy sire and I will crush the snake!"
He kiss'd her forehead as he spake,
And Geraldine, in maiden wise,
Casting down her large bright eyes,
With blushing cheek and courtesy fine,
She turn'd her from Sir Leoline;
Softly gathering up her train,
That o'er her right arm fell again;