When Eric woke to thought, the light had flown,

With Hope upon its wing

And left Despair.

One thought alone could light and comfort bring—

His secret—This, not death should from him tear.

 The rasp of grating chains and rush of air Awoke the sleeping page From frightful dreams. A voice he heard. Alas! 'twas fierce with rage, While on his sight there flashed the fitful gleams Of warders' arms. In haste they clangour down the stair. 

The rasp of grating chains and rush of air

Awoke the sleeping page

From frightful dreams.

A voice he heard. Alas! 'twas fierce with rage,

While on his sight there flashed the fitful gleams

 "Come forth, young man! Sir Guy awaits above. We dare not tarry long; He's mad this morn. Keep up your heart, my son! Be firm, be strong! A page, yet truer knight was never born! Betray her not, brave youth, as you esteem her love!" 

"Come forth, young man! Sir Guy awaits above.

We dare not tarry long;

He's mad this morn.

Keep up your heart, my son! Be firm, be strong!

A page, yet truer knight was never born!

 

 

 Eric to be Crucified. 

 Prev. P 26/54 next