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There you might see the Moors arming them- | And many a Moorish shield lie shattered on the
selves in haste,
And the two main battles how they were forming The pennons that were white marked with a fast; crimson stain,
Horsemen and footmen mixt, a countless troop The horses running wild whose riders had been and vast. slain.
The Moors are moving forward, the battle soon | The Christians call upon St. James, the Moors must join.
"My men, stand here in order, ranged upon a line! Let not a man move from his rank before I give the sign."
There were thirteen hundred of them slain on a little spot of ground.
Minaya Alvar Fañez smote with all his might,
Pero Bermuez heard the word, but he could not He went as he was wont, and was foremost in the
He held the banner in his hand, he gave his There was Galin Garcia, of courage firm and horse the rein; clear;
"You see yon foremost squadron there, the Felez Munioz, the Cid's own cousin dear; thickest of the foes, Antolinez of Burgos, a hardy knight and keen, Noble Cid, God be your aid, for there your banner Munio Gustioz, his pupil that had been; The Cid on his gilded saddle above them all was
There was Martin Munioz that ruled in Montmayor;
Let him that serves and honors it show the duty that he owes." Earnestly the Cid called out, "For Heaven's sake, be still!" There were Alvar Fañez and Alvar Salvador; Bermuez cried, "I cannot hold," so eager was his These were the followers of the Cid, with many will. others more,
He spurred his horse and drove him on amid the In rescue of Bermuez and the standard that he Moorish rout; bore.
They strove to win the banner, and compast him Minaya is dismounted, his courser has been slain, He fights upon his feet, and smites with might and main.
Had not his armor been so true, he had lost either life or limb.
The Cid came all in haste to help him to horse again. The Cid called out again, "For Heaven's sake, He saw a Moor well mounted, thereof he was full fain;
Their shields before their breasts, forth at once Through the girdle at a stroke he cast him to the
He called to Minaya Fañez and reached him out the
Their lances in the rest levelled fair and low,
‘Mount and ride, Minaya, you are my right hand; We shall have need of you to-day, these Moors will not disband!
The Cid was in the midst, his shout was heard afar,
Minaya leapt upon the horse, his sword was in
"I am Rui Diaz, the Champion of Bivar;
Nothing that came near him could resist him or
There where Bermuez fought amidst the foe they All that fall within his reach he despatches as he goes.
Three hundred bannered knights, it was a The Cid rode to King Fariz, and struck at him three blows;
gallant show: Three hundred Moors they killed, a man with The third was far the best, it forced the blood to flow: every blow;
When they wheeled and turned, as many more The stream ran from his side, and stained his lay slain, arms below;
You might see them raise their lances and level The King caught round the rein, and turned his them again; back to go.
There you might see the breastplates, how they The Cid has won the battle with that single blow. were cleft in twain,
By an anonymous translator in the appendix to SOUTHEY'S translation of " The Chronicle of the Cid."
The mother who conceals her grief.
Rissing the pamot brow she blesses,
but her secret god,
weighs upon her,
the pain that
Sheds holy blood as i'er the aud
Believe me stile, as I have ever been Ide steadfast liver lily leberty; fellow mew. my weakness, trees,
thes with that all mankind won fra
POEMS OF TEMPERANCE AND LABOR.
YE who would have your features florid,
A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.
MAY the Babylonish curse
Half my love, or half my hate;
Sooty retainer to the vine ! Bacchus's black servant, negro fine! Sorcerer that mak'st us dote upon Thy begrimed complexion, And, for thy pernicious sake, More and greater oaths to break Than reclaimed lovers take 'Gainst women! Thou thy siege dost lay Much, too, in the female way, While thou suck'st the laboring breath Faster than kisses, or than death.
Thou in such a cloud dost bind us That our worst foes cannot find us, And ill fortune, that would thwart us, Shoots at rovers, shooting at us;
While each man, through thy heightening steam,
Does like a smoking Etna seem; And all about us does express