THE VICTORY OF THE CID.

(_For the Mirror_.)


The subject of the following lines is mentioned in the traditional
histories of Spain: that on one occasion, to insure victory in a nocturnal
attack on the Moslem camp, the body of the Cid was taken from the tomb,
and carried in complete armour to the field of battle.

Not a voice was heard at our hour of need,
When we plac'd the corse on his barbed steed,
Save one, that the blessing gave.
Not a light beam'd on the charnel porch
Save the glare which flash'd from the warrior's torch,
O'er the death-pale face of the brave.

We press'd the helm on his ghastly head,
We bound a sword to the hand of the dead,
When the Cid went forth to fight.
Oh where was Castile's battle cry,
The shout of St. James and victory,
And the Christians stalwart might?

The winds swept by with mournful blast,
And sigh'd through the plumes of the dead as he past,
Through troublous skies the clouds flitted fast,
And the moon her pale beam faintly cast,