The Poetical Works of William Motherwell/Roland and Rosabelle
Roland and Rosabelle.
A tomb by skilful hands is raised,
Close to a sainted shrine,
And there is laid a stalwart Knight,
The last of all his line.
Beside that noble monument,
A Squire doth silent stand,
Leaning in pensive wise upon
The cross-hilt of his brand.
Around him peals the harmony
Of friars at even-song,
He notes them not, as passing by
The hymning brothers throng:
And he hath watched the monument
Three weary nights and days,
And ever on the marble cold
Is fixed his steadfast gaze.
'I pray thee, wakeful Squire, unfold'—
Proud Rosabella said—
'The story of the warrior bold,
Who in this tomb is laid?'
'A champion of the Cross was he'—
The Squire made low reply—
'And on the shore of Galilee,
In battle did he die.
'He bound me by a solemn vow,
His body to convey
Where lived his love—there rests it now,
Until the judgment-day:
And by his stone of record here,
In loyalty I stand,
Until I greet his leman dear—
The Lady of the Land!'
'Fair stranger, I would learn of thee
The gentle warrior's name,
Who fighting fell at Galilee
And won a deathless name?'
The Squire hath fixed an eye of light
Full on the Lady tall—
'Men called,' he said, 'that hapless Knight
Sir Roland of the Hall!
'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!