Ii

When that evil lady he lay beside Bade him turn to greet his bride, What think you he did? O, to spare her pain, And let not his loathing her loathliness vain Mirror too plain, Sadly, sighingly, Almost dyingly, Turned he and kissed her once and again. Like Sir Gawain, gentles, should we? SILENT, ALL! But for pattern agree There's none like the Knight of Courtesy.