Her face had filled his careless eye

Nor knew it was his destiny.

 But ever in his dreams it came Divine and passionless and strong, A smile upon the imperial lips No lover's kiss had dared to wrong. 

Divine and passionless and strong,

No lover's kiss had dared to wrong.

 He took his armor from the wall— Ah! gone since then was many a day— He led his steed from out the stall And sought la dame de ses pensées. 

Ah! gone since then was many a day—

And sought la dame de ses pensées.

 The ladies of the Troubadours Came riding through the chestnut grove "Sir Minstrel, string that lute of yours And sing us a gay song of love." 

Came riding through the chestnut grove

And sing us a gay song of love."

 "O ladies of the Troubadours, My lute has but a single string; Sirventes fit for paramours, My heart is not in tune to sing. 

My lute has but a single string;

My heart is not in tune to sing.

 "The flower that blooms upon my shield It has another soil and spring Than that wherein the gaudy rose Of light Provence is blossoming. 

It has another soil and spring

Of light Provence is blossoming.

 "The lady of my dreams doth hold Such royal state within my mind, No thought that comes unclad in gold To that high court may entrance find." 

Such royal state within my mind,

To that high court may entrance find."

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