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BERNARDINE DU BORN.
��KING HENRY sat upon his throne,
And full of wrath and scorn, His eye a recreant knight survey 'd
Sir Bernardine du Born. And he that haughty glance returned,
Like lion in his lair, While loftily his unchang'd brow
Gleamed through his crisped hair.
" Thou art a traitor to the realm,
Lord of a lawless band ; The bold in speech, the fierce in broil,
The troubler of our land. Thy castles and thy rebel-towers
Are forfeit to the crown, And thou beneath the Norman axe
Shalt end thy base renown.
" Deignest thou no word to bar thy doom, Thou with strange madness fired ?
�� �
