Across these chords unwilling thrown,
To echo plainings of my own!
Little indeed can ye divine
What song ye ask who call for mine!

"Till now, before the courtly crowd
I humbly and I gaily bow'd;
The blush was not to shame allied
Which on my glowing cheek I wore;
No lowly seemings pain'd nay pride,
My heart was laughing at the core;
And sometimes, as the stream of song
Bore me with eddying haste along,
My father's spirit would arise,
And speak strange meaning from these eyes,
At which a conscious cheek would quail,
A stern and lofty bearing fail:
Then could a chieftain condescend
In me to recognize his friend!
Then could a warrior low incline
His eye, when it encounter'd mine!
A tone can make the guilty start!
A glance can pierce the conscious heart,
Encountering memory in its flight,
Most waywardly! Such wounds are slight;
But I withdraw the painful light!

"Fair lords and princes! many a time
For you I wove my pictur'd rhyme;
Refin'd new thoughts and fancies crude