And lastly, when the life of the wounded baron is ebbing forth with his blood on the field of battle, when—
"The Monk, with unavailing cares
Exhausted all the Church's prayers—
Ever, he said, that, close and near,
A lady's voice was in his ear,
And that the priest he could not hear—
For that she ever sung,
'In the lost battle, borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying!'—
So the notes ring."