SANPEUR.
The great King Constantine is at the hunt;The brilliant cavalcade of knights and dames,On palfreys and on chargers trapped in goldAnd silver and red purple, ride in mirthAlong the winding way, by hill and tarnAnd violet-sprinkled dell. Impatient houndsSniff the keen morning air, and startled birdsRustle the foliage redolent with spring.
From time to time some courtier reins his steedBeside the love-enkindling Gwendolaine,Whose wayward...
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