1.
In fair Cordova’s cathedral,
Stand the columns, thirteen hundred,—
Thirteen hundred giant-columns
Bear the mighty dome in safety.
And on dome and walls and columns
From the very top to bottom
The Koran’s Arabian proverbs
Twine in wise and flowery fashion.
Moorish Kings erected whilome
This vast house to Allah’s glory,
Yet in many parts ’tis alter’d
In the darksome whirl of ages.
On the turret where the watchman
Summon’d unto prayer the people,
Now the Christian bell is sounding
With its melancholy murmur.
On the steps whereon the faithful
Used to sing the Prophet’s sayings,
Now baldpated priests exhibit
All the mass’s trivial wonders.
How they twirl before the colour’d
Puppets, full of antic capers,
Midst the incense smoke and ringing,
While the senseless tapers sparkle!
In fair Cordova’s cathedral
Stands Almansor ben Abdullah,
Viewing silently the columns,
And these words in silence murmuring:
“O ye columns, strong, gigantic,
“Once adorn’d in Allah’s glory,
“Now must ye pay humble homage
“To this Christendom detested.
“To the times have ye submitted,
“And ye bear the burden calmly;
“Still more reason for the weaker
“To be patient all the sooner.”
And Almansor ben Abdullah
Bent his head with face unruffled
O’er the font so decorated
In fair Cordova’s cathedral.