Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/257

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No moan was heard through the towers of state, No weeper's aspect seen, But by the couch Ximena sate, With pale, yet stedfast mien4.

Stillness was round the leader's bed, Warriors stood mournful nigh, And banners, o'er his glorious head, Were drooping heavily.

And feeble grew the conquering hand, And cold the valiant breast; —He had fought the battles of the land, And his hour was come to rest.

What said the Ruler of the field? —His voice is faint and low; The breeze that creeps o'er his lance and shield Hath louder accents now.

"Raise ye no cry, and let no moan   Be made when I depart; The Moor must hear no dirge's tone,    Be ye of mighty heart!