ARTHUR of Britain, noble king, Whose prowess this instruction gave, That we should courteous be and brave, Upheld a court so flourishing, And festival which so much cost, That we should name it Pentecost: In Wales at Cardoil was his court. After the feast the Knights resort, Gathered together in a hall, Obedient to their lady's call, Or maid of high or low estate: And one some story would relate; And one would tell of love, and all Anguish and dolours that befall, And the great ills they often bear, Who scholars in his college are; Which then did wealth and credit own, But now its habitants are gone; For most have left, and few remain, Hence love is fallen in disdain. For those in olden time who loved For courtesy were well approved; Brave, bounteous too, and honourable. Now Love is turned into a fable; Those who ne'er felt its mastery Say that they love. They do but lie, Fable and falsehood they proclaim Who without right yet boast the name. But still to speak of those who were The men now living we forbear; For, as I think, more honour crave The courteous dead than living knave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO DICK, ON HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY by SARA TEASDALE EXILE OF ERIN by THOMAS CAMPBELL THE POET'S SONG FOR HIS WIFE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER THE SUNDEW by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE MIRACLES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN MEMORY OF DOCTOR DONNE by R. B. VERSES TO -- --, ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON |