📔 Marmion

Whenas the Palmer came in hall, / No lord, nor knight, was there more tall, / Or had a statelier step withal.

But woe betide the wandering wight, / That treads its circle in the night.

And he, their courtesy to requite, / Gave them a chain of twelve marks weight, / All as he lighted down. / "Now largesse, largesse, Lord Marmion, / Knight of the crest of gold! / A blazon'd shield, in battle won, / Ne'er guarded heart so bold."— […]

Danger, long travel, want, or woe, / Soon change the form that best we know— / For deadly fear can time outgo, / And blaunch at once the hair; […]

Yet did a splinter of his lance / Through Alexander's visor glance, / And razed the skin—a puny wound.