That tassel’d horn so gayly gilt,
That falchion’s crooked blade and hilt,
That cap with heron plumage trim,
And yon two hounds so dark and grim.
He bade that all should ready be
To grace a guest of fair degree;[60]
But light I held his prophecy,
And deem’d it was my father’s horn
Whose echoes o’er the lake were borne.”