Old Ragnor's Dungeons Grim.

Hewn out of solid rock, some fathoms deep Old Ragnor's dungeons lay. A massive chain Which two men scarce could move a foot away, Joined door above to door below. Its strain Upon the stone-cut stairs still makes the flesh to creep.

Here faithful Eric found himself immured To try if gloom and fear Of tortures dire Could wring from him a secret held more dear Than life itself. Nay! Famine, rack, and fire, Swift death or tortures slow—all, all should be endured

For his dear lady's sake. Though but a page He'd learn to value truth In word and deed From her whose noble love inspired his youth And taught him lessons from her living creed. Her foe had thrown the glove he dared take up the gage.