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4. Oh! I am come from the Holy Land,

Where saints did live and die; Behold the device I bear on my shield

The Red-Cross Knight am I!

5. • And we have fought in the Holy Land,

And we've won the victory; For with valiant might did the Christians fight,

And made the proud Pagans flee.'

6. • Thou 'rt welcome here, dear Red-Cross Knight;

Come, lay thy armour by;
And for the good tidings thou dost bring,

We'll feast us merrily.'

7. “Oh! I cannot stay,' cried the Red-Cross Knight,

• But must go to my own countryWhere manors and castles will be my reward,

And all for my bravery.'

Oh! say not so, thou Red-Cross Knight,

But if you will bide with me,
With manors so wide, and castles beside,

I'll honour thy bravery.'

9. 'I cannot stay,' cried the Red-Cross Knight,

'Nor can I bide with thee, But I must haste to my king and his knights,

Who are waiting to feast with me.'


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10. Oh! say not so, thou Red-Cross Knight,

But if you will stay with me, With feast and with dance, with tourney* and lance, We'll honour thy bravery.'

11. 'I cannot stay,' cried the Red-Cross Knight,

"Nor can I feast with thee; But I must haste to a pleasant bower,t Where a lady's waiting for me.'

Oh! say not so, dear Red-Cross Knight,

Nor heed that fond lady;
For she can't compare to my daughter fair,
And she shall wed with thee.'

And now the lute's sweet silver sound

Re-echoed through the hall,
And in that lord's fair daughter came,
With her ladies clad in pall.

The lady was decked in costly robes,

And shone as bright as day; And with courtesy sweet the knight she did greet, And pressed him to stay.

Right welcome, brave Sir Red-Cross Knight,

Right welcome unto me;
And here long time I hope thou 'lt stay,

And bear us company.' * Tournament.

+ Boudoir, lady's drawing-room. I A fine robe, from Lat. pallium, 'a cloak.'

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It grieves me much, thou lady fair,

That here I cannot stay ;
For a beauteous lady is waiting for me,

Whom I've not seen many a day.'

And as the lady pressed the knight,

With her attendants all,
Oh! then bespake a pilgrim youth,

As he stood in the hall:

18. Now, Heaven thee save, good Red-Cross Knight,

I'm come from the north country, Where a lady is laid all in her sick-bed,

And evermore calls for thee.'

19. Alas! alas ! thou pilgrim-boy,

Sad news thou tellest me; Now I must ride full hastily,

To comfort that dear lady.'

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20. Oh! heed her not,' the lady cried,

But send a page to see, While the mass is sung, and the bells are rung,

And we feast us merrily.'

21. Again bespake the pilgrim-boy,

• Ye need not send to see ; For know, Sir Knight, that lady's dead,

And died for love of thee,'

Oh! then the Red-Cross Knight was pale,

And not a word could say ;
But his heart did swell, and his tears down fell,

And he almost swooned away.

23. Now fie on thee! thou weakly knight,

To weep for a lady dead; Were I a noble knight like thee,

I would find another to wed.

So come, cheer up, and comfort your heart,

And be good company,
While the mass is sung, and the bells are rung,

And we feast so merrily.'

25. In vain that courtly lady strove

The sorrowing knight to cheer; Each word he answered with a groan,

Each soothing with a tear.

And now farewell, thou noble lord,

And farewell, lady fair,
In pleasure and joy your hours employ,

Nor think of my despair.'


27. And where is her grave,' cried the Red-Cross Knight, The grave

where she doth lie ?? Oh! I know it well,' cried the pilgrim-boy,

And I'll shew it thee hard by.'


28. 'I'm glad I've found thee, pilgrim-boy, And thou shalt with

me, And thou shalt guide to my lady's grave, And great thy reward shall be.'

29. Again he sighed, and wept forlorn,

For his lady that was dead; "Lady, how sad thy wedding-tide,

How cold thy bridal-bed !'

30. Thus the Red-Cross Knight complained and sighed,

While all around did cry, · Let the minstrels sing, and the bells out ring, And the feast eat merrily.'

And now the gentle moon around

Her silver lustre shed,
Brightened each current, wall, and tower,

And distant mountain's head.

32. By whose sweet light the knight his way

Hath ta'en, though not with joy, And with him goes, on mounted steed, The faithful pilgrim-boy.

33. Oh! fast they sped, to reach the dead,

And few the words they spoke; Save when the passing* convent bell

Fresh tears and sighs awoke.

* The bell which tolled for the dying.

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