The trustiest shall rule my land, my vassals and my state, And be a guardian tried and true to thee, my lovely mate.

V.

"As Christian-man, I needs must keep the vow which I have plight,

When I am far in foreign land, remember thy true knight; And cease, my dearest dame, to grieve, for vain were sor

row now,

But grant thy Moringer his leave, since God hath heard his vow."

VI.

It was the noble Moringer from bed he made him bowne, And met him there his Chamberlain, with ewer and with gown:

He flung the mantle on his back, 'twas furr'd with miniver, He dipp'd his hand in water cold, and bathed his forehead

fair.

VII.

"Now hear," he said, "Sir Chamberlain, true vassal art thou mine,

And such the trust that I repose in that proved worth of

thine,

For seven years shalt thou rule my towers, and lead my vassal train,

And pledge thee for my Lady's faith till I return again."

VIII.

The Chamberlain was blunt and true, and sturdily said he,

Abide, my lord, and rule your own, and take this rede

from me ;

That woman's faith's a brittle trust-Seven twelvemonths

did'st thou say?

I'll pledge me for no lady's truth, beyond the seventh fair

day."

IX.

The noble Baron turn'd him round, his heart was full of

care,

His gallant Esquire stood him nigh, he was Marstetten's

heir,

To whom he spoke right anxiously, "Thou trusty squire

to me,

Wilt thou receive this weighty trust when I am o'er the

sea?

X.

"To watch and ward my castle strong, and to protect my

land,

And to the hunting or the host to lead my vassal band ; And pledge thee for my Lady's faith, till seven long years

are gone,

And guard her as Our Lady dear was guarded by Saint John."

XI:

Marstetten's heir was kind and true, but fiery, hot, and

young,

And readily he answer made with too presumptuous

tongue;

My noble lord, cast care away, and on your journey

wend,

And trust this charge to me until your pilgrimage have

end.

XII.

"Rely upon my plighted faith, which shall be truly tried, To guard your lands, and ward your towers, and with your vassals ride;

And for your lovely Lady's faith, so virtuous and so dear, I'll gage my head it knows no change, be absent thirty

year."

XIII.

The noble Moringer took cheer when thus he heard him

speak,

And doubt forsook his troubled brow, and sorrow left his

cheek;

A long adieu he bids to all-hoists top-sails, and away, And wanders in Saint Thomas-land seven twelvemonths and

a day.

XIV.

It was the noble Moringer within an orchard slept,

When on the Baron's slumbering sense a boding vision

crept ;

And whisper'd in his ear a voice, ""Tis time, Sir Knight, to

wake,

Thy Lady and thine heritage another master take.