THE TROUBADOUR.
73
A forehead, but that was too fair
To read of aught but beauty there!
And Raymond had the place of pride,
The place so envied by her side,—
The victor's seat,—and overhead
The banner he had won was spread.
His health was pledged!—he only heard
The murmur of one silver word;
The pageant seem'd to fade away,
Vanish'd the board and glad array,
The gorgeous hall around grew dim,
There shone one only light for him,
That radiant form, whose brightness fell
In power upon him like a spell,
