41 The Faery Wife. HE guests are gone the feast is done, Hushed is the minstrel's strain, A lady and her lord alone In the festal hall remain, The guests are gone, who late were there, The proud, the high born and the fair. The lady's cheek is flushed and warm, Fondly she rests her beauteous arm A parting kiss, and a fond adieu, And that lady fair is gone ; The hall is still the lights are few— And where his guests had lately been, Knights in armour, and horses in mail, Figures of warriors bold,— Helm and hauberk on massive nail, Stirrup and bridle of gold, Pennon and lance, and glaive and shield, Burnished and bright for the battle field. Midnight on the castle bell Had just begun to toll, When a form the Baron knew full well Into his presence stole ; It walked up close beside his chair, With stately step and solemn air. 'Twas the Abbot of the Carmelite friars Before the Baron he stood, From his girdle hung his roll of beads, And the figure of holy rood,— He looked around with searching eye Welcome-welcome-holy friar! Lord Abbot, I prythee, say! My sword, my hand, and eke my blood, Are thine to use for the Church's good! Our Lady bless thee, gentyl knight ! — Thy knightly aid, thy noble blood, Nor an acre of thy land ; My lonely visit this night to thee Is a mission of Christian charity. |