And struck and slew, as on he sped,
And grappled still his flying foes;
While still to heaven his battle shout,
“St. James! St. James!” triumphant rose.
Nor ceased the victory’s work at last,
That bowed them to the shield and spear,
Till to the castle’s wall they turned
And entered through the slaughter there;—
Till there they saw, to havoc hewn,
Their Moorish foemen prostrate laid;