THE VOW OF THE PEACOCK.
101
Of those who have such vigils kept;
Who comes above his rest to weep,
And watch the warrior as he slept?
A maiden, beautiful and pale,
Shrouded beneath a pilgrim's veil,
Which, backward flowing as she kneels,
A face—an angel's face reveals,
Save that it has a look of care
Which angel-beauty cannot wear.
It was Amenaïde,—she sought,
To see that worshipped face again,
Although its presence only brought
A keener bitterness to pain.
The moorish garb is laid aside,
That sex and loveliness belied,
For she has joined a pilgrim band,
Who journey to the Holy Land,
