III.

"How long to wait!" and far she bent From her tall casement toward the lawn; A prospect of a wide extent Glassed in her eyes and hateful shown. Along the white lake windy crags Blue with coarse brakes and ragged pines; A bandit keep with trembling flags; And barren scars, and waste marsh lines, And now a palfried dame and knight. Deep deer-behaunted forests old, Whose sinewy boughs dark blocked the cave Of Heav'n o'er Earth; a blasted hold 'Mid livid fields; a torrent's wave. And o'er the bridge whose marble arched The torrent's foam, dim in the dew Of morning, one all glimmering marched In glittering steel from helm to shoe, With lance whose fang smote back the dawn.