Xim. They are gone forth
Unto the rescue!—strong in heart and hope,
Faithful, though few!—My mother, let thy prayers
Call on the land’s good saints to lift once more
The sword and cross that sweep the field for Spain,
As in old battle; so thine arms e’en yet
May clasp thy sons! For me, my part is done!
The flame which dimly might have linger’d yet
A little while, hath gather’d all its rays
Brightly to sink at once. And it is well!