The picture such of life. The man of might
Is tempest-chafed, his woe great as his form;
Thyself, a floweret of small account,
Would harder feel the wind as higher thou didst mount."
Sir Roger's moral is trite enough, yet it seems to have escaped the consideration of our Chartists and Socialists.
Elinour the nut-brown, and Juga the fair, are two pining maidens, who, seated on the banks of the Redbourne, a river near St Alban's, are each bemoaning their lovers, gone to fight in that neighbourhood for the Rose of York. Presently, racked with suspense, they hasten nearer to the scene of action.
"Like twain of clouds that hold the stormy rain,
They moved gently o'er the dewy meads
To where Saint Alban's holy shrines remain.
There did they find that both their knights were slain.