Classic Poem

Sir Guy had heard afar the tidings fell
Of Harold Wynn's return
From Holy Land.
The news more fiercely made his wrath to burn.
Hence hot with hate he sought Old Ragnor's strand,
Whose peaceful haunts became again a very hell.

By Eric fed, the beacon lamp once more
Shone o'er the treach'rous sea
Which hid Death's maw.
Rowena had a secret gate whose key,
Her page had used. Her light, Sir Guy first saw.
O madd'ning sight! "If saved, Rowena dies," he swore.

The light of life, he quenched, and straightway hung
A lamp to lure to death.
His eyes shot fire
As straight he saw her come. He held his breath,
At length he heard the crash. No Nero's lyre
Across his work of death such yells of triumph flung!