Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/104

But he is on his homeward way,
        From the Roncesvalles' Strait!"

"There is dust upon his joyous brow,
    And o'er his graceful head;
And the war-horse will not wake him now,
    Tho' it bruise his greensward bed!
        —I have seen the stripling die,
        And the strong man meet his fate,
Where the mountain-winds go sounding by,
        In the Roncesvalles' Strait!"

Elmina enters.

ELMINA.

Your songs are not as those of other days,

Mine own Ximena!—Where is now the young
And buoyant spirit of the mom, which once
Breath'd in your spring-like melodies, and woke
Joy's echo from all hearts?

XIMENA.

My mother, this

Is not the free air of our mountain-wilds;