Ah, Paladour! in vain thy dauntless breast

Those glitt'ring arms with martial pomp invest;

Ah, taught in vain, upon the listed field,

To rein the steed, the fatal lance to wield;

No more loud trumpets summon thee to fight, Love's gentle whispers woo thee to delight; Sweet smiling lips, and sparkling eyes detain, And beauty binds thee in her silken chain.

END OF THE FIRST CANTO.

THE

BOWER OF MELISSA.

A TALE.

CANTO II.

THE BOWER OF MELISSA.

A TALE..

CANTO II.

To noble Cadwall now returns the song,

Who in the tangled forest wander'd long,

And oft he blows his sounding horn amain

But only echo answers to the strain.

Now fear, now doubt his lab'ring mind torments,

And now he blames his friend, and now laments.

Ah, Paladour! perhaps, by numbers slain;

Thy failing voice on Cadwall call'd in vain.'. Resolv'd at length, he speeds with anxious breast To where the brave the prize of fame contest,

1

There yet he hopes to hear his brother's name,
Assist his prowess, and partake his fame.

The lists were set, and round in order plac'd, Renowned knights, and dames with beauty grac'd. Above the rest, the monarchs hoary hair Appears, and by his side the princely fair. Her ivory hands the victor's meed unfold,

A scarf that glows with purple and with gold.

A knight before her stands, with ardent eyes,

Of fierce demeanour, and gigantic size :

In gorgeous arms his mighty limbs are drest;

A golden eagle forms his lofty crest.

As proudly confident he claims the prize,

Applauding thousands rend with shouts the skies.

"Let the bold knight, who dares my claim deny,

Here, in bright arms the arduous conflict try.

'An hundred knights the bold defiance hear,

• Nor one encounters this victorious spear.' He said. Upon his arm the royal maid, That envy'd scarf with graceful action laid;