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The Good Old Times.

Part I.—The Feast.

The vassals throng the spacious hall,
Rich viands grace the board;
The brave, the fair are gathered there,
To greet their lavish lord.
Musicians from the gallery
Discourse melodious sound,
And riot reigns, while merrily
The wine cup circles round.
Oh! glorious times, when maids were fair,
When men were strong and bold;
What wonder that the poets swear
By those grand days of old?

With liquors choice the pages haste
To cheer the feaster's soul;
And as they pass fill high each glass
From out the sparkling bowl.
And brightly mirth and revelry
On all the faces shine;
All hearts confess the witchery
Of woman and of wine.
Oh! glorious times when maidens fair,
And heroes strong and bold,
Could in the festive goblet share,
In those bright days of old.

The bashful lover, hot with wine,
Becomes a noisy guest;
And does not fear his mistress' ear
To soil with ribald jest.
The wines with potent subtlety
Her veins and pulses flush,
And in the glow, her modesty
Too oft forgets to blush.
Oh! glorious times when maids were fair,
And jests were broad and free;
The times that writers still declare
An age of chivalry.

"Begone, dull care!" their wassail-word,
As mounts their tipsy glee;
Fill high! Fill high! to woman's eye
They drink with three times three.
Bring forth the strongest malvoisie
The cellar can afford;
He's but a sorry reveller
Who sober leaves the board.
Oh! glorious times when maids were fair,
And men were strong and bold;
What wonder that the poets swear
By those grand days of old.

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