The Black Knight Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

'T was Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness,
When woods and fields put off all sadness.
       &nbsp Thus began the King and spake:
       &nbsp "So from the halls
Of ancient hofburg's walls,
       &nbsp A luxuriant Spring shall break."

Drums and trumpets echo loudly,
Wave the crimson banners proudly,
       &nbsp From balcony the King looked on;
In the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,
       &nbsp Before the monarch's stalwart son.

To the barrier of the fight
Rode at last a sable Knight.
       &nbsp "Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, say!"
"Should I speak it here,
Ye would stand aghast with fear;
       &nbsp I am a Prince of mighty sway!"

When he rode into the lists,
The arch of heaven grew black with mists,
       &nbsp And the castle 'gan to rock;
At the first blow,
Fell the youth from saddle-bow,
       &nbsp Hardly rises from the shock.