’Tis said, when the moon, with palish ray,
Shines on the spot where the brave knight lay,
A saint-like spirit you may see,
With marriage robe, and bended knee,
Kneel o’er his lowly sepulchre.
Awhile she’ll kiss the marble face,
And shed a lonely tear,
Then look to heav’n—to ask the grace
That was denied him here.
R.