Then mourn not, Edward's dome, thine ancient boast,
They tournaments, and listed combats lost!
From Arthur's board, no more, proud castle, mourn
Adventurous Valour's Gothic trophies torn!
Those elfin charms, that held in magic night
Its elder fame, and dimm'd its genuine light,
At length dissolve in Truth's meridian ray,
And the bright order bursts to purer day:
The mystic round, begirt with bolder peers,
On virtue's base its rescued glory rears;
Sees civil prowess mightier acts atchieve,
Sees meek humanity distress relieve;
Adopts the worth that bids the conflict cease,
And claims its honours from the chiefs of peace,