The Warder's Welcome to Kenilworth

WHAT stir, what turmoil, have we for the nones ?
Stand back, my masters, or beware your bones !
Sirs, I 'm a warder, and no man of straw ;
My voice keeps order, and my club gives law.

Yet soft ! nay stay -- what vision have we here ?
What dainty darling's this? what peerless peer ?
What loveliest face, that lovely ranks enfold,
Like brightest diamond chased in purest gold ?
Dazzled and blind, mine office I forsake,
My club, my key, my knee, my homage take.
Bright paragon, pass on in joy and bliss ;
Beshrew the gate that opes not wide at such a sight as this !