“Joy to the fair! whose constant knight Her favour fired to feats of might; Unnoted shall she not remain Where meet the bright and noble train; Minstrel shall sing and herald tell⁠— ‘Mark yonder maid of beauty well, ’Tis she for whose bright eyes were won The listed field at Askalon!

“ ‘Note well her smile!⁠—it edged the blade Which fifty wives to widows made, When, vain his strength and Mahound’s spell, Iconium’s turban’d sultan fell. Seest thou her locks, whose sunny glow Half shows, half shades, her neck of snow? Twines not of them one golden thread, But for its sake a Paynim bled.’