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178
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
"It may be far from thy steel-clad bands,
That I shall make thee mine;
It may be lone on the desert sands,
Where men for fountains pine!
"It may be deep amidst heavy chains,
In some strong Paynim hold;—
I have slow dull steps and lingering pains,
Wherewith to tame the bold!"
"Death, Death! I go to a doom unblest,
If this indeed must be;
But the cross is bound upon my breast,
And I may not shrink for thee!
"Sound, clarion, sound!—for my vows are given
To the cause of the holy shrine;
I bow my soul to the will of Heaven,
O Death!—and not to thine!"
