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THE ordeal's fatal trumpet sounded,
She wept, deliver'd from her danger;
But when he knelt to claim her glove— "Seek not," she cried, "oh! gallant stranger,
For hapless ADELGITHA's love.
"For he is in a foreign far land
Whose arm should now have set me free;
And I must wear the willow garland
For him that 's dead, or false to me."
He raised his vizor-At the sight She fell into his arms and fainted;
It was indeed her own true knight !
say not that his faith is tainted!"
DRINK ye to her that each loves best,
And if you nurse a flame
That 's told but to her mutual breast,
Enough, while memory tranced and glad
Paints silently the fair,
That each should dream of joys he's had, Or yet may hope to share.
Yet far, far hence be jest or boast
From hallow'd thoughts so dear;
But drink to them that we love most,
As they would love to hear.
WHEN NAPOLEON was flying
From the field of Waterloo,
A British soldier dying,
To his brother bade adieu !
"And take," he said, "this token
To the maid that owns my faith, With the words that I have spoken In affection's latest breath."
Sore mourn'd the brother's heart, When the youth beside him fell; But the trumpet warn'd to part, And they took a sad farewell.— H 2