The Moor was rich and powerful,
But not of lineage high,
His wealth outweighed with one light maid
Three years of constancy.
Touched to the heart, on hearing this,
He stood in arms arrayed,
Nor strange that he, disarmed by love,
'Gainst love should draw his blade.
And Venus, on the horizon,
Had shown her earliest ray
When he Sidonia left, and straight
To Jerez took his way.
THE TOURNAMENT
His temples glittered with the spoils and garlands of his love,
When stout Gazul to Gelvas came, the jouster's skill to prove.
He rode a fiery dappled gray, like wind he scoured the plain;
Yet all her power and mettle could a slender bit restrain;
The livery of his pages was purple, green, and red--
Tints gay as was the vernal joy within his bosom shed.
And all had lances tawny gray, and all on jennets rode,
Plumes twixt their ears; adown their flanks the costly housings flowed.
Himself upon his gallant steed carries the circling shield,
And a new device is blazoned upon its ample field.
The phoenix there is figured, on flaming nest it dies,
And from its dust and ashes again it seems to rise.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204