The first knight's sword hung high in hall, Had healed the feud of race, By val'rous deeds. Beneath it in the same proud resting place, The sons fixed theirs with other warlike meeds, To prove their martial line had known nor break nor fall. 

The first knight's sword hung high in hall,

Had healed the feud of race,

By val'rous deeds.

Beneath it in the same proud resting place,

The sons fixed theirs with other warlike meeds,

 

 

 Rowena's Lonely Vigil. 

 She sought her chamber in yon spectral keep With ivy wreaths now crowned; Whose casket rent By Time's grim hand and strewn by fragments round, Once held a jewel whose rare beauty lent Its light to cheer the sailors toiling on the deep. 

She sought her chamber in yon spectral keep

With ivy wreaths now crowned;

Whose casket rent

By Time's grim hand and strewn by fragments round,

Once held a jewel whose rare beauty lent

 Her vestal lamp she nightly trimmed and fed, A beacon light more true Than stars above; For darkness only made the light it threw More bright—bless'd, too, as emblem of her love For those who else might make Hell's caves their last lone bed. 

Her vestal lamp she nightly trimmed and fed,

A beacon light more true

Than stars above;

For darkness only made the light it threw

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