The virgin train prepare—
A scarf, to wrap the snow-white breast,
And gems to deck the hair.
Elfrida, at her lattice high,
Sits with the bridal throng—
She looks and looks—then heaves a sigh—
"Why tarries he so long?"
He comes!—'tis he!—and by his side
Attend a noble band—
He comes to claim his royal bride—