The Wounded Knight

I know a story of anguish,
A tale of the times of old;
A knight with love doth languish,
His mistress is faithless and cold.

As faithless must he esteem now
Her whom in his heart he adored;
His loving pangs must he deem now
Disgraceful and abhorr’d.

In vain in the lists would he wander,
And challenge to battle each knight;
“Let him who my mistress dares slander
Make ready at once for the fight!”

But all are silent, save only
His grief, that so fiercely doth burn;
His lance he against his own lonely
Accusing bosom must turn.