II
Bexoip! Arabia’s burning shore
Rings to the hoofs of many a steed.
Lord of a legion rides to war
The indomitable Palamede.
The Paynim fly ; his troops delight
In murder of many a myriad men,
Following exultant into fight
Sir Palamede the Saracen.
Now when a year and day are done
Sir Palamedes is aware
Of blue pavilions in the sun,
And bannerets fluttering in the air.
Forward he spurs; his armour gleams;
Then on his haunches rears the steed;
Above the lordly silk there streams
The pennon of Sir Palamede!
Aflame, a bridegroom to his spouse,
He rides to meet with galliard grace
Some scion of his holy house,
Or germane to his royal race.