Repel the servant of the Seers;
We meet—’tis vain to strive or fly:
Albert of Lindheim, thou must die!”
Then with clasp’d hands the fair-hair’d maid
Sank at his feet, and wildly pray’d:—
“Stay, stay thee! sheath that lifted steel!
Oh! thou art human, and canst feel!
Hear me! if e’er ’twas thine to prove
The blessing of a parent’s love;
By thine own father’s hoary hair,