Of the service itself I need say no more,
For well you will know no title was wanting,
Another noise and a new was well-nigh at hand,
That the lord might have leave his life to nourish. . .
The stout king stands in state
Till a wonder shall appear;
He leads, with heart elate,
High mirth in the New Year. . .
And the first course come to that company fair,
There hurtles in at the hall-door an unknown rider,
One the greatest on ground in growth of his frame:
which one the black words?