III.
Why course the drops down Mena’s cheek?
Why leaves she now the lonely height,
The ladye of the heart so meek,
The ladye of such gentle might?
She sees no more her own brave knight,
She hears no more his bugle-wail;
The dark’ning shadows of the night,
Shrouding the forest, plain and dale,
Conceal him from her sight.
And now she hastens to her bower,
And now the chief pricks on his way;
Behold, around him march the power,
Of vassal bold in long array;
For they are bound to Palestine,
With shield, and spear, and sword,
Their blessed Saviour’s tomb to win
From ruthless Moslem horde.