Two lovely Forms were gliding;
A Lady, with a beauteous face!
A Youth with stern, but manly, grace
Smil’d,—as in scorn deriding.
Close, by the wond’ring Bride they pass’d,
The red Sun sinking slowly:
And to the little cross they hied—
And there she saw them, side by side,
Kneeling, with fervour holy.
The little cross was golden ting’d