And as I sit here, close at hand Four spikes of sad sick sunflowers stand, The castellan with a long wand Cuts down their leaves as he goes by, Ponderingly, with screw'd-up eye, And fingers twisted in his beard-- Nay, was it a knight's shout I heard? I have a hope makes me afeard: It cannot be, but if some dream Just for a minute made me deem I saw among the flowers there My lady's face with long red hair, Pale, ivory-colour'd dear face come, As I was wont to see her some Fading September afternoon, And kiss me, saying nothing, soon To leave me by myself again; Could I get this by longing: vain! The castellan is gone: I see On one broad yellow flower a bee Drunk with much honey-- Christ! again, Some distant knight's voice brings me pain, I thought I had forgot to feel, I never heard the blissful steel These ten years past; year after year, Through all my hopeless sojourn here, No Christian pennon has been near; Laus Deo! the dragging wind draws on Over the marches, battle won, Knights' shouts, and axes hammering, Yea, quicker now the dint and ring Of flying hoofs; ah, castellan, When they come back count man for man, Say whom you miss. The PAGANS, _from the battlements_. Mahmoud to aid! Why flee ye so like men dismay'd? The PAGANS, _from without_. Nay, haste! for here is Launcelot, Who follows quick upon us, hot And shouting with his men-at-arms. SIR GUY. Also the Pagans raise alarms, And ring the bells for fear; at last My prison walls will be well past. SIR LAUNCELOT, _from outside_. Ho! in the name of the Trinity, Let down the drawbridge quick to me, And open doors, that I may see Guy the good knight. The PAGANS, _from the battlements_. Nay, Launcelot, With mere big words ye win us not. SIR LAUNCELOT. Bid Miles bring up la perriere, And archers clear the vile walls there, Bring back the notches to the ear, Shoot well together! God to aid! These miscreants shall be well paid. Hurrah! all goes together; Miles Is good to win my lady's smiles For his good shooting--Launcelot! On knights a-pace! this game is hot! SIR GUY _sayeth afterwards_. I said, I go to meet her now, And saying so, I felt a blow From some clench'd hand across my brow, And fell down on the sunflowers Just as a hammering smote my ears, After which this I felt in sooth; My bare hands throttling without ruth The hairy-throated castellan; Then a grim fight with those that ran To slay me, while I shouted, "God For the Lady Mary!" deep I trod That evening in my own red blood; Nevertheless so stiff I stood, That when the knights burst the old wood Of the castle-doors, I was not dead. I kiss the Lady Mary's head, Her lips, and her hair golden red, Because to-day we have been wed. SHAMEFUL DEATH.