Poem by Thomas Campbell

Adelgitha

The ordeal's fatal trumpet sounded,
And sad pale Adelgitha came,
When forth a valiant champion bounded,
And slew the slanderer of her fame.
She wept, delivered from her danger;
But when he knelt to claim her glove-
"Seek not!" she cried, "oh, gallant stranger,
For hapless Adelgitha's love.

For he is dead and in a foreign land
Whose arm should now have set me free;
And I must wear the willow garland
For him that's dead, or false to me."

"Nay! say not that his faith is tainted!"-
He raised his visor.-At the sight
She fell into his arms and fainted;
It was indeed her one true knight! 

1. O’Connor’s Child; Or, the Flower of Love Lies Bleeding
2. Lines on the View from St. Leonard’s
3. The Beech Tree's Petition
4. Lines on the Camp Hill, near Hastings
5. Poland

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