Ere to-morrow shall rise on these lordly towers,

    From that gate shall a monarch ride.

   "For a vision came to my lonely bed,

    And that vision bade me flee;

   And I must away, ere break of day,

    O'er the hills to the south countrie.

   "But take this cup,—'tis a hallowed thing,

    Which holy men have blessed;

   In the church of the Holy Sepulchre

    This crystal once did rest;

   "And many a martyr, and many a saint,

    Around its brim have sate;

   No water that e'er its lips have touched

    But is hallowed and consecrate.

   "'Tis thine, Sir John; not an empire's worth,

    Nor wealth of Ind could buy

   The like, for never was jewel seen

    Of such wondrous potency.

   "It shall bless thy bed, it shall bless thy board,

    They shall prosper by this token;

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