“I see the warrior-boy on gallant steed

Spur to the battle proudly o’er the plain,

His eye resolved to make the Moslem bleed,—

His bounding bosom scorns to wear a chain!

His lance in rest, his armour without stain,

He panteth for the mêlée hand to hand;

Enough his guerdon that he strikes for Spain.

Wo to the hostile ranks that dare to stand

Before that fiery Chief’s dread lance and lightning brand!

XIV.