Yet, in that hour, midst those green wastes, there sate
One young and fair; and oh! how desolate!
But undismay’d—while sank the crimson light,
And the high cedars darken’d with the night.
Alone she sate; though many lay around,
They, pale and silent on the bloody ground,
Were sever’d from her need and from her woe,
Far as death severs life. O’er that wild spot
Combat had raged, and brought the valiant low,
And left them, with the history of their lot,