"
Turned then his mother from the hearth-stone hot;
Dropped the black lid upon the gruel-pot.
"I know'd a Qua-aker feller, as often as tow'd me this:
'Doan't thou marry for munny, but goa wheer munny is!'
She's a beauty, thou thinks--wot'a a beauty? the flower as blaws,
But proputty, proputty sticks, and proputty, proputty graws."
Then said her son, "If I may make so bold,
You quote the new-style poem, not the old.
The Northern Farmer whom you think so sage
Is not born yet. This is the Middle Age."
He said no more, and on the next bright day
To Arthur's court he proudly rode away.
And on the way a maiden did he meet,
And laid his heart and fortunes at her feet.
Smiling on him--ETTARRE was her name--
"Brave knight," she said, "your love I cannot blame.
Your hands are strong. I see you have no brains,
You're just the man for tournaments. Your pains,
In case for me a battle you shall win,
Shall be rewarded," and she smiled like sin.
PELLEAS glistened with a wild delight;
And good King Arthur soon got up a fight
And on the flat field, by the shore of Usk,
SIR PELLEAS smashed the knights from dawn till dusk.
Then from his spear--at least he thought he did--
He shook each mangled corpse, and softly glid,
And crowned ETTARRE Queen of Love and Truth.
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