Awaken'd from her trance of pensive woe
By these fair flattering words, she rais'd her head;
And bending on the KNIGHT her frowning brow,
Mock'st thou my sorrows,  she said.
Or is thy judgment by thy heart misled
To deem that certain, which thy hopes suggest?
To deem them full of life and lustihead,
Whose cheeks in  vivid tints are drest,
And with  careless mien, and dimpled smiles imprest?