And all those hard light hearts were swayed
With pity passing like a shade
That stays not, and may be not stayed,
To hear the mutual moan they made,
⁠Each to behold his brother die,
Saying, 'Both we came out of one tomb,
One star-crossed mother's woful womb,
And so within one grave-pit's gloom
⁠Untimely shall we lie.'

And Balan prayed, as God should bless
That lady for her gentleness,
That where the battle's mortal stress
Had made for them perforce to press
⁠The bed whence never man may rise
They twain, free now from hopes and fears,
Might sleep; and she, as one that hears,
Bowed her bright head: and very tears
⁠Fell from her cold fierce eyes.