WHEN sable midnight on the fields and woods
Had spread her mantle dark, then wander'd forth
The pensive Alcon, and the bosom deep
Of a wild wood with solitary steps,
There to lament his wretched fate, he sought.
Him, late as o'er the vale at coming eve
Joyful he walk'd with his Lucilla dear,
A soldier stern advancing on his steed,
Robb'd of his love, and tore the beauteous maid
With brutal hand from his contending arms,
Weeping in vain, and shricking for his aid,
And frowning bore the precious prize away.
The wood, whose shades the plaintive shepherd sought,
Was dark and pathless, and by neighbouring seet
Long time untrod: for there in ancient days
Two knights of bold emprise, and high renown,
Met in fierce combat, to dispute the prize
Of beauty bright, whose valiant arm should win
A virgin fair, whose fair-emblazon'd charms
With equal love had smote their rival breasts.
The knight who fell beneath the victor's sword,
Unhears'd and restless, from that fatal day
Wanders the hated shades, a spectre pale;
And each revolving night, are heard to sound
Far from the inmost bower of the deep wood,
Loud shrieks, and hollow groans, and rattling chains.
When the dark secrets of the grove he gain'd,
Beneath an ancient oak his weary limbs
He laid adown, and thus to plain began.