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THE VOW OF THE PEACOCK.
Fair as the north, whose sky and snows
Give softest white and purest rose.
The other—such soft shadows weave
The sweet shapes of a southern eve.
The fringed lashes darkly bend
Where moon-beams and where meteors blend,—
Eyes, full of danger and delight,
Where softness and where fire unite.
Before the armed knight they stand,
Then flashes forth his eager brand;
So help him God! as he shall fight
For honour and his lady's right;
So help him God! as he shall be
True to his faith, his sword, and thee.
She watched him while he swore—that queen
So fair a knight had never seen—
