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 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
[The damsel stood to watch the fight]
The damsel stood to watch the fight
By the banks of Kingslea Mere,
And they brought to her feet her own true knight
Sore-wounded on a bier.
By the banks of Kingslea Mere,
And they brought to her feet her own true knight
Sore-wounded on a bier.
She knelt by him his wounds to bind,
She washed them with many a tear:
And shouts rose fast upon the wind,
Which told that the foe was near.
She washed them with many a tear:
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Which told that the foe was near.
“Oh! let not,” he said, “while yet I live,
The cruel foe me take:
But with thy sweet lips a last kiss give,
And cast me in the lake.”
The cruel foe me take:
But with thy sweet lips a last kiss give,
And cast me in the lake.”
Around his neck she wound her arms,
And she kissed his lips so pale:
And evermore the war's alarms
Came louder up the vale.
And she kissed his lips so pale:
And evermore the war's alarms
Came louder up the vale.
She drew him to the lake's steep side,
Where the red heath fringed the shore;
She plunged with him beneath the tide,
And they were seen no more.
Where the red heath fringed the shore;
She plunged with him beneath the tide,
And they were seen no more.
Their true blood mingled in Kingslea Mere,
That to mingle on earth was fain:
And the trout that swims in that crystal clear
Is tinged with the crimson stain.
That to mingle on earth was fain:
And the trout that swims in that crystal clear
Is tinged with the crimson stain.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |