With glistering tapestry, whereon a knight,
Who bore a golden helm above the fight,
For ever triumphed o'er assailing swords,
Or led the greenwood chase with horse and hound,
While far behind him lagged the dames and lords
And all the hunting train; till he, at length,
Brought low the antlered quarry on the brink
Of some deep, craggy cleft, wherefrom did shrink
The quailing hounds with lathered flanks aquake.
As Christine looked on them, her maiden-strength