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THE ROMAUNT OF THE PAGE.
Then dimly dropped his eyes away
From welkin unto hill—
Ha! who rides there?—the page is 'ware,
Though the cry at his heart is still!
And the page seeth all, and the knight seeth none,
Though banner and spear do fleck the sun,
And the Saracens ride at will.

He speaketh calm, he speaketh low,—
"Ride fast, my master, ride,
Or ere within the broadening dark
The narrow shadows hide! "
"Yea, fast, my page; I will do so;
And keep thou at my side."

"How nay, now nay, ride on thy way,
Thy faithful page precede!
For I must loose on saddle-bow
My battle-casque, that galls, I trow,
The shoulder of my steed;
And I must pray, as I did vow,
For one in bitter need.

"Ere night I shall be near to thee,—
Now ride, my master, ride!
Ere night, as parted spirits cleave
To mortals too beloved to leave,
I shall be at thy side."
The knight smiled free at the fantasy,
And adown the dell did ride.

Had the knight looked up to the page's face,
No smile the word had won!
Had the knight looked up to the page's face,
I ween he had never gone!
Had the knight looked back to the page's geste,
I ween he had turned anon!