And with banners curtain’d o’er,
For the daughter of the minstrel-land,
The gay Provençal shore!
For the bright queen of St Louis,
The star of court and hall!
But the deep strength of the gentle heart
Wakes to the tempest’s call!
Her lord was in the Paynim’s hold,
His soul with grief oppress’d,
Yet calmly lay the desolate,