For on the towers of Cordoba the while
That baleful crescent glitter’d in the morn,
And with its insolent triumph seem’d to mock
The omen I had found.... Last night I dreamt
That thou wert in the field in arms for Spain,
And I was at thy side: the infidels
Beset us round, but we with our good swords
Hew’d out a way. Methought I stabb’d a Moor
Who would have slain thee; but with that I woke
For joy, and wept to find it but a dream.