I loved her more than she could imagine
Esteemed her more than she could envision
She was my reverie from the moment we did chance
But I was nestled in masks of fear and pretense ...
I thought to do a deed of chivalry,
An act of worth, which haply in her sight
Who was my mistress should recorded be
And of the nations. And, when thus the fight
Faltered and men once bold with faces white
Turned this and that way in excuse to flee,
I only stood, and by the foeman's might
Was overborne and mangled cruelly.
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