Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/211

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A sword, A sword, springs upward, like a lightning burst, Through the dark serried mass!—Its cold blue glare Is wavering to and fro—'tis vanish'd—hark!

I heard it, yes!—I heard the dull dead sound That heavily broke the silence!—Didst thou speak? —I lost thy words—come nearer!

'Twas—'tis past!— The sword fell then!

Flow forth thou noble blood! Fount of Spain's ransom and deliverance, flow Uncheck'd and brightly forth!—Thou kingly stream! Blood of our heroes! blood of martyrdom! Which through so many warrior-hearts hast pour'd Thy fiery currents, and hast made our hills Free, by thine own free offering!—Bathe the land, But there thou shalt not sink!—Our very air Shall take thy colouring, and our loaded skies O'er th' infidel hang dark and ominous, With battle-hues of thee!—And thy deep voice