He saw his royal banners where they lay drenched and torn,
He heard the cry of victory, the Arabs' shout of scorn.
He look'd for the brave captains that had led the hosts of Spain,
But all were fled except the dead, and who could count the slain?
Where'er his eyes could wander, all bloody was the plain;
And while thus he said the tears he shed ran down his cheeks like rain:
"Last night I was the King of Spain, to-day no king am I;
Last night fair castles held my train, to-night where shall I lie;
Last night a hundred pages did serve me on the knee,
To-night not one I call my own, not one pertains to me.