Within the castle chamber
The Norman knight lay dead;
The quarterings of the casement
Shone holy round his head.
And first there came a maiden;
Her face was wet and white:
She kissed his mouth and murmured,
"Thou wast my own true knight."
Within the arrased chamber
The Norman knight lay dead;
And tapers four and twenty
Burnt at his feet and head.
And next there came a friar
And prayed beside the bier:
"Thou art a blesséd angel,
Who wast so noble here."
Within the lofty chamber
The Norman knight lay dead;
Dim through the carven casement
The moonbeams lit his head.
And then there came a varlet--
Loud laughed he in his face:
"Thus do I spit upon thee,
Thee and thy curséd race!"
Within the silent chamber
The Norman knight lay dead--
Nor Norman knight nor Saxon serf
Heard aught the dead man said.