Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/157

Into the whispering breeze, and where wild flowers
Bloom o'er forgotten graves!—But know'st thou aught
Of those, where sword from crossing sword strikes fire,
And leaders are borne down, and rushing steeds
Trample the life from out the mighty hearts
That ruled the storm so late?—Speak not of death,
Till thou hast look'd on such.

ALPHONSO.

I was not born

A shepherd's son, to dwell with pipe and crook,
And peasant-men, amidst the lowly vales;
Instead of ringing clarions, and bright spears,
And crested knights!—I am of princely race,
And, if my father would have heard my suit,
I tell thee, infidel! that long ere now,
I should have seen how lances meet; and swords
Do the field's work.

ABDULLAH.

Boy! know'st thou there are sights

A thousand times more fearful?—Men may die
Full proudly, when the skies and mountains ring
To battle-horn and tecbir*^[1].—But not all
So pass away in glory. There are those,

1. *Tecbir, the war-cry of the Moors and Arabs.