Landon in The Literary Gazette 1828/Sir Adalbert
7
Literary Gazette, 5th July, 1828, Page 427
ORIGINAL POETRY.
SIR ADALBERT: BALLAD.
Sir Adalbert, Sir Adalbert, why dost thou pass the wine?
The foam-beads are like diamonds upon a ruby shrine;
Why dost thou bend thy gloomy brow so oft upon thy sword?
Why dost thou guard such sullen mood beside the festal board?
"Mine eye is best upon my sword, because the Cross is there;
And I’ve a brow of care, for well it suits the heart of care.
Now fling down each untasted cup, and listen to my tale,
Then marvel that my lip is mute, or that my laughter fail.
You know the colours that I wore whene'er I rode the ring;
You know the soft eyes that were wont their sidelong glance to fling;
You know the Lady Adela, my own sweet sovereign dame,
When every knight rode up and kissed his goblet to her name.
Last night there came the little page so blest her lute to hear,
And gave my hand a scented scroll, bound with her sunny hair—
It greeted me she was alone, within her favourite bower,
And bade me welcome if I there could loiter twilight's hour!
The first star rose above the west, and I was on my way
To where, amid the orange-grove, her jasmine alcove lay;
I marvelled somewhat as I came, such disarray I found—
The flowers had fallen from her hair, her lute was on the ground;
Herself flung on the violets, sweet watchers, fit to keep
A perfumed atmosphere of sighs around her summer sleep;
One ivory foot was bare, so small, the violets o'er it spread,
And one white arm made dove-like nest to shield that lovely head.
A vellum tablet filled her hand—oh well I knew the line!
For there were written words of love—the tender words were mine.
Now sweet, but not too long, love mine, thy gentle sleeping be;
My heart beat when I saw those lines—perhaps she dreams of me.
I envied e'en her dreams; dear one, I must awake thee now,
And softly did I bend to kiss the slumber from her brow:
I started at its marble touch, it was so ghastly chill;
I prest my hand upon her heart, but there the pulse was still;
I kist her mouth, it had no breath, her lip and cheek no red:
I called her, but she answered not I knew that she was dead.
To-night they lay her in the tomb, which I will watch beside,
And look my last, and weep my last, o'er my betrothed bride.
And all my gallant comrades here, pray for her soul and mine;
A long, a last farewell to all—I'm bound for Palestine."
He raised the red wine from the board, he drank them one by one;
"I never pledge man's name again:"—Sir Adalbert past on.
Next day a bark for Acre sailed: of those who crossed the main,
Were some who sought in after-years their native shore again;
But never came Sir Adalbert home to our English strand;
His death-wound won, his grave was made, within the Holy Land.L. E. L.