Classic Poem

The noble ship had freight of nobler men,
Whose crosses bore the stain
Of deadly strife
With Turc and Saracen, on Acre's plain
And wounded sore had scarce escaped with life.
How beat their hearts with joy at sight of home again.

At home, alas! did foes more deadly wait
Than Saladin's fierce crew.
The lamp of love
Was changed for one of hate, which threw
Its false and fatal skein of light above.
A shuddering shock, a fearful crash, foretold the vessel's fate.

For many nights before, two lonely men
Stood ready, boat at hand.
God speed them now!
As swift they row and quick return to land,
Bearing a lifeless form with sword-cleft brow,
Whose arms fast clutch a maid. They bore them to their den.