At last one day I rested in a glade
Near that same woodland which I lay in when
Sore wounded; and, while sitting in the shade
Of an old beech--what! did I dream, or men
Like Rupert's own ride near me? and a maid--
Isolda or her spirit!--Wildly then
I rose and, shouting, leapt upon my horse;
Unsheathed my sword and rode across their course.