The midnight lamp gleams dull and pale,-- The maidens twain are weak and frail,-- But Love doth aid his votaries true, While they the massive bolts undo,-- And a moment hath flown, and the warrior knight Embraceth his love in the meek moonlight. The knight his love-prayer, tenderly, Thus breathed in his fair one's ear "Oh! wilt thou not, my Agnes, flee?-- And, quelling thy maiden fear, Away in the fleeting skiff with me, And, for aye, this lone heart cheer?" "O let not bold Romara[7] seek"-- Soft answered his ladye-love,-- "A father's doating heart to break, For should I disdainful prove Of his high behests, his darling child Will thenceforth be counted a thing defiled; And the kindling eye of my martial sire Be robbed of its pride, and be quenched its fire: Nor long would true Romara deem The heart of his Agnes beat for him, And for him alone--if that heart, he knew, To its holiest law could be thus untrue." His plume-crowned helm the warrior bows Low o'er her shoulder fair, And bursting sighs the grief disclose His lips can not declare; And swiftly glide the tears of love Adown the ladye's cheek;-- Their deep commingling sorrows prove The love they cannot speak! The moon shines on them, as on things She loves to robe with gladness,-- But all her light no radiance brings Unto their hearts' dark sadness: Forlornly, 'neath her cheerless ray,-- Bosom to bosom beating,-- In speechless agony they stay, With burning kisses greeting;-- Nor reck they with what speed doth haste The present hour to join the past. "Ho! lady Agnes, lady dear!" Her fearful damsel cries; "You reckon not, I deeply fear, How swift the moontide flies! The surly warder will awake, The morning dawn, anon,-- My heart beginneth sore to quake,-- I fear we are undone!" But Love is mightier than Fear: The ladye hasteth not: The magnet of her heart is near, And peril is forgot! She clingeth to her knight's brave breast Like a lorn turtle-dove, And 'mid the peril feeleth rest,-- The full, rapt rest of Love! "I charge thee, hie thee hence, sir knight!" The damsel shrilly cries; "If this should meet her father's sight, By Heaven! my lady dies." The warrior rouseth all his pride, And looseth his love's caress,-- Yet slowness of heart doth his strength betide As he looks on her loveliness:-- But again the damsel their love-dream breaks,-- And, self-reproachingly, The knight his resolve of its fetters shakes, And his spirit now standeth free. Then, came the last, absorbing kiss, True Love can ne'er forego,-- That dreamy plenitude of bliss Or antepast of woe,-- That seeming child of Heaven, which at its birth Briefly expires, and proves itself of earth.