The lineage of their ancient Chiefs renew’d, ...
The Prince had been immersed: and here within
An oaken galilee, now black with age,
His old Iberian ancestors were laid.
Two stately oaks stood nigh, in the full growth
Of many a century. They had flourish’d there
Before the Gothic sword was felt in Spain,
And when the ancient sceptre of the Goths
Was broken, there they flourish’d still. Their boughs
Mingled on high, and stretching wide around,