Scawfell saw them take the billow, Man by man on Cumbria's shore; Carmel's foot was first their pillow When again to land they bore. And in holy fight they bound them To their Saviour's service true; Fought and bled, through hosts around them, Till their ranks were faint and few. Then beneath the foe contending, Faithful, fearless, but in vain, Lo, the brothers bound and bending Drag the hopeless captive's chain. In the Moslem dungeon wasting, England's bravest, both they lie; No sweet hope nor solace tasting, Only blank captivity. Months have rolled; and moons are waning; Then stood Lucy forth and said,-- "Emir, over millions reigning! We are two in dungeon laid. I, who bore a noble's banner, I have halls and realms afar, Wealth which many a lordly manor Yields, beneath the western star. "Let the Emir's heart be gracious! Free my brother at my side; And a ransom rich and precious We will bring o'er ocean wide. So we two, whose arms avail'd not Here our freedom to sustain, But whose constant courage fail'd not, May be Freedom's sons again." Greed for gain o'er wrath prevailing Softened soon the tyrant's mind. Homewards one is swiftly sailing; Calmly one will wait behind. For a twelve-months thus they parted. Weary months, the year, went o'er. But that brother, evil-hearted, From the West return'd no more. Then the Emir's soul no longer Would its vengeance stern forego; All his rage suppress'd the stronger, Burn'd, and burst upon his foe. And he bade his hair be knotted Into cords around a beam, There to chain him till he rotted, Where no light of heaven could gleam. And in hunger sore he wasted; And his nails grew like a bird's; Day's sweet blesséd airs untasted, And no sound of human words! Changed in soul, and form, and feature, Ah! how changed from that fair mould. In which heaven had stamped its creature Man and warrior, mild as bold! Yet one heart whose daily gladness Once had been, from latticed bower To look down on him in sadness Walking forth at evening hour; She, the Emir's fairest daughter, Sees brave Lucy now no more,-- Till unresting love has brought her Trembling to his dungeon's floor. There, with one mute form attending, Swift her arm the faulchion drew Through his locks; the hatterel rending[22] From him, as it cleaved them through. And with words of woman-kindness Whisper'd she--"To light and air, Life and love, from dungeon blindness, Are we come the brave to bear." And for love of him she bore him To a ship, wherein he rode Seaward till the bright sky o'er him Circled round his own abode. Then his castle-horn he sounded, Which none other's skill could sound, Where the traitor sat, confounded, With his bold retainers round.