It's another one from my memorization slate (which means I did not write it). And remember, if you read it, read it ALOUD. All poetry should be read aloud.
King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;
The nobles filled the benches round, the ladies by their side,
And 'mongs them sat the Count do Lorge, with one for whom he sighted:
And truly 't was a gallant thing to see that crowning show,
Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.
Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifle roar, they rolled on one another:
'Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the barscame whizzing through the air:
Said Francis, then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."
De Lorge's love o'erheard the king,-a beauteous, lively dame,
With smiling lips, and sharp, bright eyes, which always seemed the same;
She thought, "The Count, my lover, is brave as barave can be,
He surely would do wondrous things to show his love for me;
King, ladies, lovers all look in; the occasion is divine;
I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine."
She dropped her glove to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild;
The leap was quick, return was quick, he soon regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.
"In faith," cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;
"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."
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