Constance De Castile | ||
VIII.
Apart, amid the princely trainWho join'd the feast at Aquitaine,
The knight ne'er pledg'd the social bowl.
Haply, some vow had bound his soul,
Pennance, that none on earth had pow'r
To loosen, ere the appointed hour.
Haply, his mistress had enjoin'd
A deed that harrow'd up his mind:
Haply, 'twas conscience-haunted guilt,
Blood of the brave, unjustly spilt.
There stood the knight, and high his brow
Tow'r'd, helmeted, o'er all below.—
Constance De Castile | ||