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'His foot was foremost in the fray,
And last to leave the field—
A braver arm in danger's day
Ne'er shivered lance on shield!'
'In death, what said he of his love—
Thou faithful soldier tell?'
'Meekly he prayed to Him above
For perjured Rosabelle.'
'Thy task is done—my course is run—
(O fast her tears did fall!)
I am indeed a perjured one—
Dear Roland of the Hall!'
Even as the marble cold and pale,
Waxed Rosabella's cheek;
The faithful Squire resumed travail—
The Lady's heart did break!
