Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/452

 And welcome be the trumpet's sound, the war-steed's tramp and neigh, And death, for Palestina's cause, in the battle's hot mellay!'

O never for that love-lorn youth did vessel cleave the seas! The hand of death was on the lips that wooed the ocean breeze; They bare him to the damoisel, they laid him at her knee, Though knight and pilgrim wept aloud—no tear dropt that ladye— Three times she kissed the clay-cold brow of her unbidden guest, Then took the vows at Mary's shrine, and there her ashes rest.