O moon, art thou clad in silver mail
Like armour of my true knight;
O moon, is my lover's face so pale
As thy wan light?
Shine fair on my lover's tent, that is white by the whiter foam,
And woo him away from the South to the woods of his Island home!
And woo him away from the South to the woods of his Island home!

O wind, that awakest soft and low
Where the heart o' the wood is stirred,
Far over the dreaming waters go
Like wild sea-bird;
And pause at my lover's tent, in the land that is far away,
And whisper the words of love, the words that I dare not say!
And whisper the words of love, the words that I dare not, dare not say!

Rise, holy Palmer! 'Tis not meet
That thou shouldst kneel to me.
He who defends the absent should stand high
In Cedric's hall.
Good Palmer, thou didst speak of one I knew
In days gone by.
I must be brief. I would but ask of thee
Thou knowest him hast seen him? He is well?
I speak of Ivanhoe.

Ah, lady fair!
I knew but little of the knight
I would 'twere more, since thou dost care
To hear of him.

Is he much changed?

Burnt by Syrian suns,
And somewhat worn by war; but that's not much
'Tis said he bears some sorrow at the heart.

Is he not happy, then?

Ah, what know I? Perchance forgive me, if I speak too bold
Thou knowest best his chance of happiness.

God keep him safe, and bring the wand'rer home!

Amen to that sweet prayer!

If thou dost see him,
Tell him there are those
That think on him.

And shall I bid him hope?

Hope is for all the world.

But not for him.

Hope is for all the world a distant light,
Now lost, now seen above a restless sea,
Sound of a string we follow with delight
To utmost melody.
Sound of a string we follow with delight
To utmost melody.

Ah! then if he beyond the ocean foam
Stare like a ghost across the barren sea,
Yet may he hope some day for welcome home,
For home, perchance for thee.

Hope is for all the world.

Yet may he hope some day for welcome home,

Ah! Hope is for all the world,

So may he hope.

Hope is for all the world

So may he hope.

Sound of a string we follow with delight

I do believe that he will come again,
And yet I fear.
I would speak further with thee, but not now.
I thank thee, holy Palmer, and farewell.

Farewell, most gentle lady.

Farewell, farewell.

Like mountain lark my spirit upward springs,
And with quick pulsing wings
Beats the still air to music. O my heart,
Beat not too wild for thinking on my dear!
But if we two must part,
For day or week or year,
Yet now I know my dear love loveth me,
My dear love loveth me
And happy shall we be
Ere death close all, and life be ended here.
And happy shall we be
And happy shall we be ere death close all!
(Calling low at a door) Isaac! Isaac, I say!

Thou must away with me, and quickly.
Hearken! I heard the Templar bid his slaves
To seize thee on the road to-morrow morn,
And bear thee to the keep of Torquilstone.

Of Torquilstone! O name of dread!
Castle of torment!
Woe's me! I feel their irons tear my flesh!
I will away good youth, dear youth, befriend me;
I will reward thee well nay, hear me!
The Jew hath eyes, and holy Palmer's frock
Sways to a knightly stride. A horse and armour?
Said I not well? A horse and goodly arms!

A wizard thou to guess so well!
The sword and spear, the sword and spear!
Grant me these, Jew, and do not fear,
But I will bring thee safe anon
Through all thy foes of Babylon.
Away, away with me!

Aye, I will follow thee.

On to the lists at Ashby with good cheer!