I read Samuel Taylor Coleridge's unfinished poem "Christabel" in my British Romantic Literature class, and for my final project I decided to write the three additional sections that Coleridge meant to have. I followed his style, with four beats per line, a rhyme scheme of mostly couplets, and brief conclusions at the end of each section. I had sort of stanzas but they won't go through when I upload or copy-and-paste the text so I'm afraid it looks like one long poem here. I'm sharing my work this way so my supportive classmates and the general public can read it. I doubt that many who use this website have read or will bother to read "Christabel", but if you do, and choose to read this, please let me know in a review!

Part III

With the quest's preparations underway

(for the Baron hoped to leave that very day),

Bard Bracy came to him, announcing a call:

"Five knights wish to enter your hall.

And this should give you interest:

your future son-in-law leads the rest."

"Why bid him enter here! And send

for my daughter and her friend

to welcome him to our abode.

This may help to relieve a load

of fear from Christabel's sweet heart,

when she and her love are no longer apart."

The soldiers entered hurriedly,

so tired they almost looked sickly,

but James, their leader and Christabel's lover,

conveyed thanks to his future father.

Sir Leoline bid them welcome,

but told them he was soon to roam

to the home of Sir Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine,

though they were welcome to remain

in the castle until he returned,

with an old friendship newly earned.

James stepped forth with anxiety

but he spoke his words with courtesy.

"My lord and future in-law, pray

do not keep us in delay.

We come to warn your household dear

of a danger coming near."

He tried to say more, but then found

his lips could hardly make a sound;

he seemed to choke whene'er he tried

the threat approaching to describe.

Bard Bracy led the ladies in,

and Christabel felt hope begin

to fan the spark within her breast.

But Geraldine now planned a test.

The Knights, on seeing her, turned pale

and started shaking in their mail.

The Lady screamed and made to hide

behind the Bard, and loud she cried:

"These my perpetrators were!

Yes, I would know them anywhere!"

Sir Leoline could scarce believe,

and felt he had good cause to grieve,

hearing his daughter's chosen one,

the youth he'd meant to soon call "son",

accused of such a crime as this.

Yet he heard Geraldine insist,

and swear that surely as Heaven would save

her, this man was the knave.

And when he gazed upon the knights,

he felt sure Geraldine was right,

for their reaction when they saw

the Lady entering the hall

suggested that they knew her mien.

They must in the past have seen

her, if such a sight could affect

someone whose task was to protect.

Besides, as far as he could see,

the girl was full of honesty.

He rested his hand on his hilt,

and bade them confess or deny their guilt.

They protested unanimously

that any had done such atrocity.

James said, "Our past sins we've admitted,

but never such crime have we committed."

"Yet you do know her," Leoline accused.

"Yes, Sir, but none of us abused

her; on the contrary,

both I and my company—"

But when James tried the more to speak,

his voice choked, as if he were meek,

but Christabel knew him not to be,

and she guessed with much certainty:

he was under the same spell as she!

Sir Leoline felt his heart torn,

but he had already forsworn,

on his life and honor, to defend

the daughter of his boyhood friend.

He could not judge who to believe,

and so construed a makeshift sieve.

"These five men I'll take with me

when we go on our journey.

But we've one stop to make before

I see my boyhood friend once more.

Guards, seize these men and escort

the five of them to my tourney court.

Let God guide the sword and hand

of the truly righteous man."

Christabel knew all too well

the strength and purpose of the spell

that kept his voice and lips silent.

Only she knew what he meant.

In vain she tried to intercede

before he could perform the deed.

"I cannot stand by while you bless

someone who bears false witness.

Shall you trust the damsel fair

over your own blood and heir?"

He looked from one girl to the other,

and Geraldine's gaze made him shudder—

not in fear, but in true grief

produced by undeserved belief.

He looked on his daughter with disdain

and bid her cease her salty rain.

"Love and passion blind your eyes:

honor states you should despise

men who give such cruel torment

to creatures fair and innocent.

Both to honor our young guest

and put your troubled heart to rest,

I must perform the deed I set

and submit to God's judgment yet.

I will not make you watch, my dear;

you must wait indoors to hear

who won, and then we will decide

how each of us shall abide."

The men were seized and forced to exit,

and Christabel too had to quit

the hall while Geraldine would go

to see the finale of this show.

And before they parted ways,

Geraldine whispered a taunting phrase:

"Who would it be, if thou could choose

your father or your love to lose?"

Hearing this, Christabel nearly fainted;

never had she heard words thus tainted

with such unfathomable hatred.

The traveling party left in haste,

the quicker sweet revenge to taste,

and Christabel was left alone

to wonder what could now be done.

Conclusion to Part the Third

'Tis piteous whenever deeds meant

to aid the harmed innocent

are twisted, so intentions pure

become as evil as one is sure

one's own righteousness must stand.

God help the one whose able hand

means to defend someone in need,

but misdirected, does a deed

they would not do in their right mind

if they knew the degree and kind

of evil they performed. And this

is ignorance, but never bliss!