I knew your soul would come, my love, 
To comfort mine in pain;
But I did not dream to see your face, 
Nor hear your voice again:
I only knelt to God and said, 
“From prayer I refrain.”
I dare not keep you here, my love; 
My knight must hold his place, 
With the noblest in the land must ride, 
And foremost in the race.
‘Tis his diviner self I love,
The strength that tempers grace.
Yet stoop from off your horse, my love, 
And kiss me on my cheek;
Let my head be lifted high, my love, 
‘Tis still beneath you meek.
Ride out, ere tears shall blind me, 
love; Good-bye, while I can speak.