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A crucifix upon her neck, And on her lips a prayer.

The sun went down, and twilight came With her banner of pearlin grey, And then afar she saw a band Wind down the vale their way.

They came like victors, for high o'er their ranks Were their crimson colours borne; And a stranger penon droop'd beneath, But that was bow'd and torn:

But she saw no white steed first in the ranks, No rider that spurr'd before; But the evening shadows were closing fast, And she could see no more.