Our parting bitterly we mourn’d;
The hearts which erst with rapture burn’d,
Were cold with woe and care.
A ring, with glittering ruby red,
Gave me that lady sheen,
And with me from the castle sped
Along the meadow green;
And whilst I saw my leman bright,
She waved on high her ’kerchief white;
“Courage! To arms!” she cried.