Remorse which gave no respite, and the long
And painful conflict of his troubled soul,
Had worn him down. Now brighter thoughts arose,
And that triumphant vision floated still
Before his sight with all her blazonry,
Her castled helm, and the victorious sword
That flash’d like lightning o’er the field of blood.
Sustain’d by thoughts like these, from morn till eve
He journey’d, and drew near Leyria’s walls.
’Twas even-song time, but not a bell was heard