The coal-black steed doth slack his speed
An’ halt at the ladye’s side,
An’ a red light gleams in flickering beams
Around her far and wide.
A mail-clad knight doth now alight,
So ghastly pale an’ wan
That the ladye cries, wi’ tearfu’ eyes,
“Where is my lover gane!”
A voice like the hollow, murm’ring wind
Replied to the high-born dame—