Her heart swung like a storm-bell tolled。，Martyrs! hungry peaks in air,
XXI。，Were kind for such as he!
God's blessing, and the bane.。，In her torn bosom fell;
。，To hold on beating wind:
Like the banner of war she led them on;。，The Countess Louis from her head
XIII。，As of a babe new-born.
Thirsted, trusted, and succumbed.。，The day without a God.
When lo, stood her tirewoman breathless by:。，And say that Honour's dead!
。，Around that scroll Count Louis' fate
。，With Louis' chance it went not well
Her heart swung like a storm-bell tolled。，
Pray for him, my blood's dear fountain,。，Rent with lightnings, clad with snow,
See there that stain on sod!。，The godless drove unto a goal
Wine I pour, I dress thy meats;。，
Forth from her bosom leaped a wail,。，With a bow and a burning glance.
，Death with Resurrection crowned,。，Of you 'tis whispered that love has power