No more, in merry England, We keep the good old ways The jolly bout o'er sirloin stout, In the great hall of dais. No more our maids are twirling The spinning-wheel and rook, While matrons hale brew nappy ale, hermes handbags Or weave the snowy smock. No more, round the great ingle, When nights are drear and long, The grandad fights his battles, And the grandam trolls her song, Of Hengist's lovely daughter For whom the crown was sold, Or of the Danish slaughter, Or of the ship of gold, With fourteen sturdy rowers, With necklace rich, and hermes kelly ring, And silken awnings from Brabant, And cushions from the rich Levant, Which Godwin gave the king.
ii. Trick'd out in French, and motley Is now onr mother tongue, Though Arthur's knights, and Alfred's fights, Therein were said and snng. We may not try our woodcraft, Or hunt in forest more The dun bull shag, the wolf, the stag, Or rouse the bristly boar. Thus, luxury for housewifery, And wit we hermes outlet have hermes birkin for worth, Since foreign wars and civil jars Hare banish'd English mirth. m.