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Rh

XI.

The wine cup circles; thro' the festal train The sound of mirth and revelry is heard; The minstrels strike the harp, and proudly raise The song of triumph; round the cheerful board Are gallant warriors! many a one is there, Whose fame were fitting theme for minstrel song. But turn we from these flowers of chivalry, To yonder chief, who leans abstractedly, As if some shadow on his spirit hung; Some dreaming mood, that comes when present scenes Recall long absent thoughts, and bring to mind What yet would be most willingly forgotten. Orlando! there is gloom upon thy brow! Can Ethlin's be a hall of joy to thee?