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THE BANQUET HALL The Marshal, with his wand before, And streamers gay and rosemary, And choral carols sounding o'er Twas set beside the father's dais Where oft the Deacon in his place, Who bearer of the Grace-cup was, Filled high the cordial Hippocras From out that bowl of spicery, And served the Abbot on his knee; hus sent around to every board This farewell-wassail from his lord The Abbot, tasting of the wine, Rose from his chair, in wonted si The feast was o'er; vet stood awhile In cheerful converse, with high guest, Who from the table round him pressed, Then with a kind and gracious smile, The wassail and the board he blessed Ere yet he left the gorgeous scene, And sought the tranquil shade within. gn VIII Here, with proud grace, did Wolsey stand, Signing forth blessings with his hand, And oft the Grace-cup had allowed To move among the willing crowd, Grandeur sat on his steadfast brow, 'Mid high Imagination's glow. He seemed to feel himself the lord Of all who sat beside his board And whether peer, or prince, or king Twas meet to him they homage bring; And homage willed they since his pride Had genius, judgment, taste, for guide, Which held it in such fine control, Pride seemed sublimity of soul.