But love will make e’en maidens dare
What most their sex hath frighten’d—
Beneath a helm she crush’d her hair,
In steel her bosom brighten’d.
She seized a lance, she donn’d a brand,
A sprightly war-horse bore her,
She hied her to the Holy Land,
Where went her Knight before her.
She sought him out—she won his heart—
Amidst the battle’s bluster;