And he never winced or shuddered at the sight of her injured face.
It was he who carried the cripple, who nursed her with tenderest care:
And never in knightly story such gallant had lady fair.
For many a year she lingered—’twas up at the Hall she died,
And here in the village churchyard they’re sleeping side by side.
She died in his arms confessing the worth of his noble love,
And in less than a year he sought her in the mansions of God above.
There stands the great bluff headland—there swells the sea below—
And the story I’ve told you happened nigh a hundred years ago,
Yet there isn’t a soul that visits those towering crags of red