Classic Poem

The olden time, the golden time —
The good, old, merry time;
It is the beauteous morning prime,
I hear the opening chime!
Green mount and dale, and woody vale,
With eager voices sound;
As lord, and knight, and lady bright,
Ride forth with hawk and hound;
In the olden time, the golden time —
The good, old, merry time!

With hawk and hound athwart the plain
Their gallant coursers sweep,
And silver curb — embroider'd rein —
May scarce their mettle keep;
As forth they ride to river-side
Their noble game to seek; —
And soon the heron's plume of pride
Bleeds 'neath the falcon's beak;
In the olden time, the golden time, —
The old, romantic time!

See! flash of wings from out the ford!
The wild Hern speeds her way —
The towering Merlin, like a sword
Hangs o'er his watchful prey!
He darts! — at one mad swoop the hern
Avoids the destin'd blow;
They chase — they fight — o'ertake — return —
Amidst the cheers below; —
Of the olden time, the golden time,
The manly, sportive time!

For music, song, and banquet-room,
Who'd give his bounding steed?
The healthful breeze — the morning bloom —
His falcon's wing of speed?
The sport with grace and spirit light,
The heart-exciting call,
For all the boasted charms of night,
The masquers and the ball?
Of the olden time, the golden time,
The good, old English time!