“Alas for thee, Toledo! in former times they said
  That they called thee for vengeance upon a traitor’s head. 
  But now ’tis not on traitors, but on loyal men and true
  That they call to thee for vengeance, which to caitiff hearts are due. 
  And Tagus gently murmurs in his billows fresh and free
  And hastens from Toledo to reach the mighty sea.” 
  E’er she said more, they seized the dame, and led her to the gate,
  Where the warden of the castle in solemn judgment sate.

THE LOVERS OF ANTEQUERA

  The brave Hamete reined his steed and from the crupper bent,
  To greet fair Tartagona, who saw him with content,
  The daughter of Zulema, who had many a foe repelled
  From the castle on the hill, which he in Archidora held;
  For six-and-thirty years he kept the Christian host at bay,
  A watchful warden, fearless of the stoutest foes’ array. 
  And now adown the well-known path, a secret path and sure,
  Led by the noble lady, hurried the gallant Moor. 
  The sentinels beneath the wall were careless, or they slept;
  They heeded not Hamete as down the slope he crept. 
  And when he reached the level plain, full twenty feet away,
  He hobbled fast his courser, lest he should farther stray. 
  Then to the Moorish lady he turned, as if to speak,
  Around her waist he flung his arms and kissed her on the cheek. 
  “O goddess of my heart,” he said, “by actions I will prove,
  If thou wilt name some high emprise, how faithful is my love! 
  And in Granada I am great, and have much honored been,
  Both by the King Fernando and Isabel his Queen. 
  My name is high, my lineage long, yet none of all my line
  Have reached the pitch of glory which men allow is mine. 
  Narvarez is a knight of name, in love and arms adept,
  In Antequera’s castle he well the marches kept. 
  Jarifa was a captive maid, he loved Jarifa well,
  And oft the maiden visited within her prison cell. 
  And, if the thing with honor and virtuous heart may be,
  What he did with Jarifa, that would I do with thee.” 
  A star was shining overhead upon the breast of night,
  The warrior turned his course, and led the lady by its light. 
  They reached the foot of one tall rock, and stood within the shade,
  Where thousand thousand ivy leaves a bower of beauty made. 
  They heard the genet browsing and stamping as he fed,
  And smiling Love his pinions over the lovers spread. 
  But ere they reached the pleasant bower, they saw before them stand,
  Armed to the teeth, with frowning face, a strange and savage band. 
  Yes, seventy men with sword in hand surrounded dame and knight,
  The robbers of the mountain, and they trembled at the sight! 
  With one accord these freebooters upon Hamete fell,
  Like hounds that on the stag at bay rush at the hunter’s call,