I need not tell how oft he smiled
When counting o’er to me each deed,
In gallant barque, on champing steed,
Of ancestors in battle wild;
Nor how he gazed upon my face
And there by hours would fondly trace
The lines which as they manlier grew,
He deemed the signs of Glory, too.
I saw at last the sable pall
Gloom in our lordly castle’s hall,