English poem
X
by Marie Van Vorst (1867–1936)
“The holy cross,” the king said, “and our word Are linkèd promise! This same night shall stir A great host for the holy sepulchre. The man who keeps thy souls and loves apart,-- As a cursed spirit, banished from a shrine, Must bind the crusade cross upon his heart, And wind a pilgrim way from thee and thine.”