Rowena had a secret gate whose key,

Her page had used. Her light, Sir Guy first saw.

 The light of life, he quenched, and straightway hung A lamp to lure to death. His eyes shot fire As straight he saw her come. He held his breath, At length he heard the crash. No Nero's lyre Across his work of death such yells of triumph flung! 

The light of life, he quenched, and straightway hung

A lamp to lure to death.

His eyes shot fire

As straight he saw her come. He held his breath,

At length he heard the crash. No Nero's lyre

 

 

 The Wreck of the "Holy Cross." 

 The noble ship had freight of nobler men, Whose crosses bore the stain Of deadly strife With Turc and Saracen, on Acre's plain And wounded sore had scarce escaped with life. How beat their hearts with joy at sight of home again. 

The noble ship had freight of nobler men,

Whose crosses bore the stain

Of deadly strife

With Turc and Saracen, on Acre's plain

And wounded sore had scarce escaped with life.

 At home, alas! did foes more deadly wait Than Saladin's fierce crew. The lamp of love Was changed for one of hate, which threw Its false and fatal skein of light above. A shuddering shock, a fearful crash, foretold the vessel's fate. 

At home, alas! did foes more deadly wait

Than Saladin's fierce crew.

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