Yet dusky is his lance's hue and dusky is his shield,
On which are serpents scattered upon a golden field.
Their venomed tongues are quivering and ears before them stand,
To show how slanderous hearts can spread their poison o'er the land.
A lettered motto in the midst which everyone may read,
Is written in Arabian script, ah! good that all should heed!
"'Tis naught but innocence of heart can save me from the blow
With which the slanderous serpents would lay their victim low."
Upon a piebald colt he rode along the valley's side,
The bravest of the valiant Moors and once Granada's pride.
In furious rage descending from bold Ubeda's steep,
He crossed the vale and mounted to Baza's castle keep.
Defiant still of Fortune's power, his thoughts at last found vent,
For Fortune had been cruel, and in words of discontent,
As if he blamed the serpent upon his shield displayed,
The torrent of his heart broke forth and in wrath the warrior said:
"O wasters of the brightest hope I knew in years long past!
O clouds by which the blazing sun of bliss is overcast!
O blight of love, O ruin of aspirations pure!
Vile worms, that gnaw and waste away the treasures most secure!
Attempt no more to banish me from my own native land,
That in my place of honor ye, envious slaves, may stand;
I, too, have friends, whose swords are keen, whose love is strong and
leal.
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