For the Cid upheld his fame.
Then a terror fell on the King Bucar,
And the Libyan kings who had join’d his war;
And their hearts grew heavy, and died away,
And their hands could not wield an assagay,
For the dreadful things they saw!
For it seem’d where Minaya his onset made,
There were seventy thousand knights array’d,
All white as the snow on Nevada’s steep,
And they came like the foam of a roaring deep