Constance De Castile A Poem, in Ten Cantos. By William Sotheby |
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 | Constance De Castile |  |
XVII.
Fair Ellen's charms bade contest cease,Her hand the price and pledge of peace.—
The day was fix'd—ah!—ere it came,
Loud rumour told of Ellen's shame.—
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Yet bleeding on the field of fight;
That Ellen laid him on his shield,
Borne by her pages from the field;
That Ellen came, when others slept,
Hung o'er his couch, and watch'd, and wept,
Still'd him with soft assuasive sound,
And heal'd with gentle touch his wound.—
| Constance De Castile | |