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 Just then the music made a din,

Flute, and cymbal, and culverin,

And Cicely, with a squeeze, got in!

Oh what a sight! full fifty score

Of dames that Cicely knew, and more,

Filling the hall from dais to door!

The dresses were like a garden-bed,

Green and gold, and blue and red—

Poor Cicely thought of her tossy head!

She heard the singing—she heard the clatter—

Clang of flagon, and clink of platter—

But, oh, the feast was no such matter!

For she saw Sir Nicholas himself,

Raised on a dais just like a shelf,

And fell in love with him—shabby elf!

Her heart beat quick, aside she stept;

Under the tapestry she crept,

Touzling her tossy hair, and wept!