HE was so courteous to the paynim horde,
Men doubted if he served the Lord
Or held the faith of Christ.
They said he proudly scorned life’s sweetest prize,
Who never played with sparkling eyes
Or kept an evening tryst.

Their god of love was but Cupidity,
Their Lord an idol vanity
With mail below his vest:
While he, true knight, believed in Christ alone,
And though they thought his heart a stone,
Made love a hero’s quest.