FROM PEYRE VIDAL, THE TROUBADOUR. <br /> <br /> <br />The earth was sown with early flowers, <br />The heavens were blue and bright-- <br />I met a youthful cavalier <br />As lovely as the light. <br />I knew him not--but in my heart <br />His graceful image lies, <br />And well I marked his open brow, <br />His sweet and tender eyes, <br />His ruddy lips that ever smiled, <br />His glittering teeth betwixt, <br />And flowing robe embroidered o'er, <br />With leaves and blossoms mixed. <br />He wore a chaplet of the rose; <br />His palfrey, white and sleek, <br />Was marked with many an ebon spot, <br />And many a purple streak; <br />Of jasper was his saddle-bow, <br />His housings sapphire stone, <br />And brightly in his stirrup glanced <br />The purple calcedon. <br />Fast rode the gallant cavalier, <br />As youthful horsemen ride; <br />'Peyre Vidal! know that I am Love,' <br />The blooming stranger cried; <br />'And this is Mercy by my side, <br />A dame of high degree; <br />This maid is Chastity,' he said, <br />'This squire is Loyalty.'<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-in-the-age-of-chivalry/
