With his own hands first planted the five shields
Of Portugal—shall Ceuta, glorious hire
Of labours long on stormy battle-fields,
Which o’er this land such broad dominion wields,
Be in a moment bartered for one poor
And worthless life? who would such thought endure?
XXIII.
“Its golden crosses glittering in the air,
Shall they give place to crescents foul and pale?
And for glad bells that call to Christian prayer,