SIR HUGH IS GONE TO PALESTINE.
I
Sir Hugh is gone to Palestine, to fight the Paynim foe,
Oh! Ladies should have fortitude, when Lords are forc'd to go;
And Lady Kate well knows this truth, a beauteous dame is she,
And smiling in her solitude, if solitude it be.
Her casement overlooks the sea, and there she sits all day—
Oh! is it not to sorrow o'er her plighted Lord's delay?
And nightly burns a taper there; oh! is it not to guide
The vessel of her plighted Lord across the stormy tide?
II
Sir Hugh is gone to Palestine, and there he must remain:
Oh, Lady fair! thy watchful days, thy beacon light, are vain;
And yet they say, within the bay, another light is seen,
Borne nightly by a stranger bark—what can such signal mean?
Conceal'd beneath the battlement, there is a secret gate,
Known only to the castle's Lord, and to his plighted mate;
Until her own dear Lord's return, shall other hands be taught
To touch the secret spring?—Away—we spurn the hateful thought!
III
Again she lights her taper, and looks forth upon the deep—
No answer from the stranger bark!—why, Lady, dost thou weep?
That signal at the secret gate!—she throws it open wide—
And instantly a knight in arms is standing at her side:
“Oh, Edgar, art thou come at last! nay, speak to me”—she cries—
His helm is rais'd!—she shrinks before those dark indignant eyes!
Sir Hugh is come from Palestine! he spurns his plighted bride,
And Edgar's life-blood mingles with the ocean's ebbing tide.
