262
SONGS OF THE CID.
THE CID'S RISING.
'Twas the deep mid-watch of the silent night,
And Leon in slumber lay,
When a sound went forth, in rushing night,
Like an army on its way!9[1]
In the stillness of the hour,
When the dreams of sleep have power,
And men forget the day.
Through the dark and lonely streets it went,
Till the slumberers woke in dread;—
The sound of a passing armament,
With the charger's stony tread.
There was heard no trumpet's peal,
But the heavy tramp of steel,
As a host's, to combat led.
Through the dark and lonely streets it pass'd,
And the hollow pavement rang,
And the towers, as with a sweeping blast,
Rock'd to the stormy clang!
