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And music rose upon the air, I look'd below, and, gather'd there, Rode soldiers with their breast-plates glancing, Helmets and snow-white feathers dancing, And trumpets at whose martial sound Prouder the war horse trod the ground, And waved their flag with many a name Of battles and each battle fame. And as I mark'd the gallant line Pass through the green lane's serpentine, And as I saw the boughs give way Before the crimson pennons' play; To other days my fancy went, Call'd up the stirring tournament, The dark-eyed maiden who for years Kept the vows seal'd by parting tears,