Page:Literary Souvenir 1828.pdf/17

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IV. Methought I would go forth awhile, And track thy steps of flame, Henceforth my young lute should be vowed To vindicate thy name.

V. I paused beside a convent grate, I heard a mournful tone, The maiden's cheek was very pale, Her eye's blue light was gone;

VI. For tears had washed the rose and light Away from cheek and eye; She knelt before the crucifix, And only prayed to die.

VII. The maiden's tale was quickly told— Of love that could forsake, Of a fond heart that beat too true, And then could only break.

VIII. I saw a young knight spur his steed Amid the thickest fight; It was not for the warrior's meed, Nor for his country's right: