These merry youths draw nigh,
Each bearing on a massy tray
Some dainty for the feast,
While the Grand Master leads the way,
Festivity's high priest!

Then seated round the banquet board,
Afar from friends and home,
They drank from goblets freely poured
To happier days to come.
And once again, in story, shone
The sun, that erst in France
Was wont, in days long past and gone,
Amid the vines to dance.

Still later, when the sun had set,
And round the fire they drew
To sing, or tell a tale ere yet
Too old the evening grew,
He who had ruled them for the day
His sceptre did resign,
And drink to his successor's sway
A brimming cup of wine.




CHAMPLAIN.

Would that with the bold Champlain,