of one,

With a measured pace, as the pace
Was the still death-march of the host begun;
With a silent step went the cuirass'd bands,
Like a lion's tread on the burning sands,

And they gave no battle-shout.

When the first went forth, it was midnight deep, In heaven was the moon, in the camp was sleep, When the last through the city's gates had gone, O'er tent and rampart the bright day shone, With a sun-burst from the sea.

There were knights five hundred went arm'd before,
And Bermudez the Cid's green standard bore; (6)
To its last fair field, with the break of morn,
Was the glorious banner in silence borne,
On the glad wind streaming free.

And the Campeador came stately then,
Like a leader circled with steel-clad men!
The helmet was down o'er the face of the dead,
But his steed went proud, by a warrior led,
For he knew that the Cid was there.

He was there, the Cid, with his own good sword,
And Ximena following her noble lord;

Her eye was solemn, her step was slow,
But there rose not a sound of war or woe,
Not a whisper on the air.

The halls in Valencia were still and lone,
The churches were empty, the masses done;

There was not a voice through the wide streets far, Nor a foot-fall heard in the Alcazar,

-So the burial-train moved out.

With a measured pace, as the pace of one,
Was the still death-march of the host begun;
With a silent step went the cuirass'd bands,
Like a lion's tread on the burning sands;
-And they gave no battle-shout.

But the deep hills peal'd with a cry ere long,
When the Christians burst on the Paynim throng!
-With a sudden flash of the lance and spear,
And a charge of the war-steed in full career,
It was Alvar Fañez came! (7)

He that was wrapt with no funeral shroud,
Had pass'd before, like a threatening cloud!
And the storm rush'd down on the tented plain,
And the Archer-Queen, (8) with her bands lay slain,
For the Cid upheld his fame.

Then a terror fell on the King Bucar,

And the Libyan kings who had join'd his war;
And their hearts grew heavy, and died away,
And their hands could not yield an assagay,
For the dreadful things they saw!

For it seem'd where Minaya his onset made,
There were seventy thousand knights array'd,
All white as the snow on Nevada's steep,
And they came like the foam of a roaring deep;
-'Twas a sight of fear and awe!

And the crested form of a warrior tall,
With a sword of fire, went before them all;
With a sword of fire, and a banner pale,
And a blood-red cross on his shadowy mail,
He rode in the battle's van!

There was fear in the path of his dim white horse,
There was death in the giant-warrior's course!
Where his banner stream'd with its ghostly light,
Where his sword blazed out, there was hurrying flight,
For it seem'd not the sword of man!

The field and the river grew darkly red,

As the kings and leaders of Afric fled;

There was work for the men of the Cid that day!
-They were weary at eve, when they ceased to slay,
As
reapers whose task is done!

The kings and the leaders of Afric fled!

The sails of their galleys in haste were spread; But the sea had its share of the Paynim-slain, And the bow of the desert was broke in Spain; -So the Cid to his grave pass'd on!

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 might,
Like an army on its way! (9)

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!

But the march of the viewless train
Went on to a royal fane,

Where a priest his night-hymn sang.

There was knocking that shook the marble floor,
And a voice at the gate, which said—
"That the Cid Ruy Diez, the Campeador,
Was there in his arms array'd;

And that with him, from the tomb,
Had the Count Gonzalez come

With a host, uprisen to aid!

"And they came for the buried king that lay
At rest in that ancient fane;

For he must be arm'd on the battle-day,
With them, to deliver Spain!"

-Then the march went sounding on,

And the Moors, by noontide sun,
Were dust on Tolosa's plain.

NOTES.

NOTE 1.

Bivar, the supposed birthplace of the Cid, was a castle, about two leagues from Burgos.

NOTE 2.

Tornaba la cabeza, e estabalos catando:
Vio puertas abiertas, e uzos sin canados,
Alcandaras vacias, sin pielles e sin mantos:
E sin falcones, e sin adtores mudados.

Sospiró mio Cid.

NOTE 3.

Poem of the Cid.

The Zambra, a Moorish dance. When Valencia was taken by the Cid, many of the Moorish families chose to remain there, and reside under his government.

NOTE 4.

The calm fortitude of Ximena is frequently alluded to in the

romances.

NOTE 5.

Banderas antiguas, tristes

De victorias un tiempo amadas,
Tremolando estan al viento

Y lloran aunque no hablan, &c.

Herder's translation of these romances (Der Cid, nach Spanischen Romanzen besungen) are remarkable for their spirit and scrupulous fidelity.