“‘Now, out on thee, faint-hearted Knight!
Thou shouldst not say me nay;
For the eve is sweet, and when lovers meet,
Is worth the whole summer’s day.
“‘And I’ll chain the bloodhound, and the warder shall not sound,
And rushes shall be strewed on the stair;
So, by the black rood-stone, and by holy St. John,
I conjure thee, my Love, to be there!’—
“‘Though the bloodhound be mute, and the rush beneath my foot,
And the warder his bugle should not blow,