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Your charms shall gifted minstrels sing And vassals bend the knee, Your welcome through my halls shall ring With songs and revelry; And as the festal board you grace, Or lead the joyous dance, The pleasures round you shall efface The thoughts of distant France.

My lineage I will scorn to name Though high its boast may be— I leave the trumpet tongue of fame To tell thee my degree; For I have borne me in the fight Through many a toilsome day, As best becomes an English knight— The foremost in the fray.