Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/283

181 The battle's strife was well nigh o'er;

When an archer, slight and slim,

At Rupert aiming twanged his bow—

Fate sped the shaft to him.

From off his steed down sunk the Knight;

The Archer-youth looked on

A moment's space—then bow and shafts

Flung from him every one,

And by the wounded Rupert knelt—

'Twas strange to see a foe

Striving all tenderly to staunch

The blood he caused to flow!

'Twas stanger yet to mark the tears,

That in a quick warm shower,

Streamed from that archers eyes, when fell

A crushed long-faded flower

From Rupert's vest.—It seemed, in sooth,

Some charm of wizard power,

Which thus that Archer's spirit quelled

In such a stirring hour.

Stranger and yet more strange it seemed,

When cap and waving plume

Unheeded from his brow fell down,