"Comfort her, comfort her, all things good,
While I am over the sea;
Let me and my passionate love go by,
But speak to her all things holy and high.
Whatever happen to me.
Me and my harmful love go by.
But come to her waking, or find her asleep,
Powers of the height, powers of the deep,
And comfort her though I die."
Surely this is the pure, unadulterated metal. Alas ! that it should sometimes lack the glitter of that counterfeit which women grasp at so eagerly in preference to the
true gold. So, in extremity of danger, shattered in battle against the chosen friend and comrade whose treachery was only less galling to his noble heart than the disloyalty of his queen, beset by
"The godless hosts
Of heathen swarming o'er the Northern sea,"
stern old foes of himself and Christendom, erst by prowess of that "glorious company,"
