THE
WARRIOR'S
RETURN
.
THE
WARRIOR'S
RETURN
.
SIR
WALTER
returned
from
the
far
Holy
Land
,
And
a
blood-tinctured
falchion
he
bore
;
But
such
precious
blood
as
now
darkened
his
sword
Had
never
distained
it
before
.
Fast
fluttered
his
heart
as
his
own
castle
towers
He
saw
on
the
mountain's
green
height
;
"
My
wife
,
and
my
son
!
"
he
exclaimed
,
while
his
tears
Obscured
for
some
moments
his
sight
.
For
terror
now
whispered
,
the
wife
he
had
left
Full
fifteen
long
twelvemonths
before
,
The
child
he
had
claspt
in
his
farewel
embrace
,
Might
both
,
then
,
alas
!
be
no
more
.
Then
,
sighing
,
he
thought
of
his
Editha's
tears
As
his
steed
bore
him
far
from
her
sight
,
And
her
accents
of
love
,
while
she
fervently
cried
,
"
Great
God
!
guard
his
life
in
the
fight
!
"
And
then
he
remembered
,
in
language
half
formed
How
his
child
strove
to
bid
him
adieu
;
While
scarcely
he
now
can
believe
,
as
a
man
,
That
infant
may
soon
meet
his
view
.
But
should
he
not
live
!
....
To
escape
from
that
fear
,
He
eagerly
spurred
his
bold
steed
:
Nor
stopped
he
again
,
till
his
own
castle
moat
Forbade
on
the
way
to
proceed
.
'T
was
day-break
:
yet
still
past
the
windows
he
saw
Busy
forms
lightly
trip
to
and
fro
:
Blest
sight
!
that
she
lives
,
"
he
exclaimed
with
smile
,
"
Those
symptoms
of
housewifery
show
:
"
For
,
stranger
to
sloth
,
and
on
business
intent
,
The
dawn
calls
her
forth
from
her
bed
;
And
see
,
through
the
castle
,
all
busy
appear
,
By
her
to
their
duty
still
led
.
"
That
instant
the
knight
by
the
warder
was
seen
,
For
far
flamed
the
cross
on
his
breast
;
And
while
loud
blew
the
horn
,
now
a
smile
,
now
a
tear
,
Sir
Walter's
mixt
feelings
expressed
.
'Tis
I
,
my
loved
vassals
!
"
the
warrior
exclaimed
,
....
The
voice
reached
his
Editha's
ears
;
Who
,
breathless
and
speechless
,
soon
rushed
to
his
arms
,
Her
transport
betraying
by
tears
.
"
And
dost
thou
still
love
me
?
"
he
uttered
,
when
first
A
silence
so
rapturous
he
broke
;
She
tried
to
reply
,
but
in
vain
....
while
her
sobs
A
volume
of
tenderness
spoke
.
Behold
how
I'm
changed
!
how
I'm
scarred
!
"
he
exclaimed
,
"
Each
charm
that
I
boasted
is
o'er
:
"
....
"
Thou
hast
bled
for
THY
GOD
,
"
she
replied
,
"
and
each
scar
Endears
thee
,
my
warrior
,
the
more
.
"
"
But
where
is
my
child
?
"
he
cried
,
pale
with
alarm
,
"
Thou
namest
not
my
Alfred
....
my
boy
!
"
........
"
And
comes
he
not
with
you
?
"
she
said
;
....
"
then
some
woe
Embitters
our
beverage
of
joy
.
"
"
What
meanest
thou
,
my
love
?
"
.......
"
When
to
manhood
he
grew
,
And
heard
of
his
father's
great
name
,
'
O
let
me
'
,
he
cried
,
'
to
the
Holy
Land
go
,
To
share
my
sire's
dangers
,
and
fame
.
"
'
Perchance
my
young
arm
,
by
the
cause
nerved
with
strength
,
May
lower
the
Pagan's
proud
crest
:
And
the
brave
Christian
knights
,
in
reward
of
my
zeal
,
May
bind
the
red
cross
on
my
breast
,
'
....
"
'
And
think'st
thou
,
'
I
said
,
'
with
the
son
I
can
part
,
Till
the
father
be
safe
in
my
arms
?
No
....
hope
not
I'll
add
to
the
fears
of
the
wife
The
mother's
as
poignant
alarms
.
'
"
I
ceased
....
and
his
head
on
my
bosom
reclined
,
While
his
golden
hair
shaded
his
cheek
;
When
,
parting
his
ringlets
,
I
saw
the
big
tears
His
heart's
disappointment
bespeak
.
The
sight
overcame
me
:
'
Most
loved
,
'
I
exclaimed
,
'
Go
,
share
in
thy
father's
renown
!
Thy
mother
will
gladly
,
to
dry
up
thy
tears
,
Endure
an
increase
of
her
own
.
'
"
He
kissed
me
...
he
thanked
me
....
I
armed
him
myself
,
And
girt
his
pure
sword
on
his
side
;
So
lovely
he
looked
,
that
the
mother's
fond
fears
Were
lost
in
the
mother's
fond
pride
.
"
"
He
went
then
?
...
How
long
has
my
warrior
been
gone
?
"
"
A
twelvemonth
,
my
Walter
,
and
more
.
"
Indeed
!
....
then
he
scarcely
could
reach
the
far
land
Until
the
last
battle
was
o'er
.
"
"
I
told
him
,
my
Walter
,
what
armour
was
yours
,
And
what
the
device
on
your
shield
,
In
hopes
of
your
meeting
.
"
....
"
Alas
!
"
he
returned
:
"
My
armour
I
changed
on
the
field
!
"
A
friend
whom
I
loved
from
the
dawning
of
youth
,
For
conquest
and
courage
renowned
,
Fell
,
fighting
beside
me
,
and
thus
he
exclaimed
,
While
life
issued
fast
from
the
wound
:
"
'
And
must
I
then
die
ere
the
flag
of
the
Cross
Waves
proudly
o'er
Saracen
towers
?
But
grant
me
,
loved
Walter
,
this
dying
request
,
For
victory
must
surely
be
ours
:
"
'
My
armour
well
tried
,
and
my
falchion
,
my
shield
,
In
memory
of
me
deign
to
wear
!
'T
would
sooth
me
to
know
,
when
the
victory
comes
on
,
That
something
of
mine
will
be
there
!
'
"
I
granted
his
wish
,
and
his
arms
I
assumed
,
While
yet
he
the
action
could
see
,
And
marked
with
delight
that
his
last
closing
look
Was
fixt
with
fond
pleasure
on
me
.
"
Yet
now
,
this
remembrance
so
dear
to
my
heart
Is
clouded
by
anxious
regret
;
Since
,
but
for
this
change
on
the
field
of
the
fight
,
The
father
and
son
would
have
met
!
"
"
But
if
he
has
fought
,
and
has
fallen
,
my
love
!
"
....
"
Suppress
,
"
cried
the
knight
with
a
frown
,
"
A
fear
so
ill-founded
;
....
if
Alfred
had
died
,
He'd
have
fallen
a
child
of
renown
.
"
Yet
vainly
he
strove
by
the
father's
proud
hopes
To
conquer
the
father's
fond
fears
;
He
feared
for
the
life
of
his
boy
,
though
with
smiles
He
answered
his
Editha's
tears
.
And
more
and
more
forced
grew
the
smile
on
his
lip
,
His
brow
more
o'erclouded
with
thought
;
At
length
he
exclaimed
,
"
From
the
field
of
renown
One
mournful
memorial
I've
brought
.
"
I
grieve
that
I
won
it
!
....
A
Saracen
chief
Fell
bleeding
before
me
in
fight
,
When
lo
!
as
I
claimed
him
my
prisoner
and
prize
,
A
warrior
disputed
my
right
.
"
'
I'm
new
to
the
battle
,
'
he
cried
,
'
and
this
prize
Will
wreathe
my
young
brow
with
renown
,
Nor
will
I
the
conquest
resign
but
with
life
:
....
That
chief
by
this
arm
was
o'erthrown
.
'
"
His
daring
enraged
me
,
...
for
mine
seemed
the
stroke
Which
laid
the
proud
Saracen
low
;
....
Besides
,
from
his
bosom
depended
no
cross
,
His
right
to
such
daring
to
show
.
"
"
But
surely
,
my
Walter
,
the
daring
bespoke
A
soul
nobly
eager
for
fame
:
So
many
your
laurels
,
that
one
you
could
spare
,
....
O
tell
me
you
granted
his
claim
!
"
"
No
,
Editha
,
no
!
....
martial
pride
steeled
my
heart
,
The
youth
I
to
combat
defied
;
He
fought
like
a
hero
!
but
vainly
he
fought
,
...
Beneath
my
strong
falchion
he
died
.
"
"
O
ill-fated
youth
!
how
I
bleed
for
his
fate
!
Perhaps
that
his
mother
,
like
me
Had
armed
him
,
and
blest
him
,
and
prays
for
his
life
,
As
I
pray
,
my
Alfred
,
for
thee
!
....
"
But
never
again
shall
he
gladden
her
eyes
,
And
haste
her
fond
blessing
to
crave
!
O
Walter
!
I
tremble
lest
you
in
return
Be
doomed
to
the
sorrow
you
gave
!
"
Say
,
did
not
the
cross
,
when
your
victim
he
fell
,
Lie
heavy
and
cold
on
your
breast
;
....
That
symbol
of
him
full
of
meekness
and
love
,
Whose
deeds
mercy
only
expressed
?
"
Yes
....
pity
,
shame
,
penitence
seized
on
my
soul
;
So
sweet
too
his
voice
was
in
tone
!
Methought
as
he
lay
,
and
in
agony
groaned
,
His
accents
resembled
thine
own
.
"
His
casque
I
unlaced
,
and
I
chafed
his
cold
brow
,
And
fain
every
wound
would
have
healed
;
So
young
,
and
so
lovely
he
seemed
,
that
I
wept
As
by
him
I
tenderly
kneeled
.
"
He
saw
my
distress
,
and
his
last
dying
grasp
Forgiveness
and
kindness
expressed
;
And
then
,
with
a
look
I
shall
never
forget
,
He
breathed
his
last
sigh
on
my
breast
.
"
"
But
what's
this
memorial
?
"
with
cheek
deadly
pale
His
Editha
falteringly
cried
:
...
"
This
scarf
from
his
bosom
!
"
....
he
uttered
no
more
,
For
Editha
sunk
by
his
side
.
Ah
then
in
her
danger
,
her
pale
look
of
death
,
He
forgot
all
the
laurels
he'd
won
.
O
father
accurst
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
"
in
that
youth
You
slaughtered
your
Alfred
....
your
son
!
"