From Canalise, in haste, I bid thee fly,
For 'vengeful lord and cruel is Sir Gui.
Take now this gold to aid thee on thy way,
And for thy life upon my knees I'll pray,
And with the holy angels intercede
To comfort thee and aid thee in thy need.
And so--farewell! "Thus, speaking, turned Yolande.
But Joc'lyn stayed her there with gentle hand,
Whereat she viewed him o'er in mute surprise,
To see the radiant gladness of his eyes.
Quoth he: "Yolande, since thou wilt pray for me,
Of thy sweet prayers fain would I worthy be.
This I do know--let Death come when he may,
The love I bear thee shall live on alway.
Nor will I strive to leave grim Death behind me,
Since when Death wills methinks he sure will find me;
As in the world Death roameth everywhere,
Who flees him here perchance shall meet him there.
Here, then, I'll bide--let what so will betide me,
Thy prayers like holy angels, watch beside me.
So all day long and in thy pretty sleeping
'Till next we meet the Saints have thee in keeping.
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