"'Whatever treasure may be lost, Whatever project may be crost, Whatever other boon denied, The amulet I long have tried Has still a sweet, attractive power To draw the confidential hour,-- That hour for weakness and for grief, For true condolement, full belief! O! I can never feel bereft, While one possession shall be left; That which I now in triumph hold, This dear, this cherish'd heart of gold! "'Come, all who wish to be enroll'd! Our order is, the heart of gold. The vain, the artful, and the nice, Can never pay the weighty price; For they must selfishness abjure, Have tongue, and hand, and conscience pure; Suffering for friendship, never grieve, But, with a god-like strength, believe In the oft absent power of truth, As they have seen it in their youth. Ye who have grown in such a mould Are worthy of the heart of gold!' "Ceasing, and in the act to rise, A voice exclaim'd, 'Receive the prize! Earl William, let me pardon crave, Thus yielding what thy kindness gave! But with such strange, intense delight, This maiden fills my ear, my sight; I long so ardently to twine In her renown one gift of mine; That having but a die to cast, Lest our first meeting prove our last, I would ensure myself the lot Not to be utterly forgot! And this, my offering, here consign, Worthy, because it once was thine! Then, maiden, from a warrior deign To take this golden heart and chain! Thy order's emblem! and afar Its light shall lead me, like a star! If thou, its mistress, didst requite With guerdon meet each chosen knight; If from that gifted hand there came A badge of such excelling fame, The broider'd scarf might wave in vain, Unenvied might a rival gain, Amid assembled peers, the crown Of tournay triumph and renown; For me its charm would all be gone, E'en though a princess set it on!'