The Christian bands in order move,
And martial pilgrims throng the strand,
When Henry leaves his plighted love,
For deadly strife in Syrian land.
Pale grew the crescent's waning light,
And Paynims fled at Henry's name;
The red-cross, like a meteor bright,
Streamed o'er the path that led to fame;
But ah ! the day of battle o'er,
He meets his weeping love, no more;
War's crimson banners darkly wave
O'er Syria's sands, and Henry's grave,