Hath for our nuptials named,—to gaze and scan
In silent joy what charms, what beauties rare
The hand divine has showered upon thy face,
And to recount to thee, when with thine own
My arm in friendship plays, what blood it shed,
What havoc in the Moslem camp it wrought.
So let me now depart." To which the Queen:
"I was the only daughter of my sire,
And cradled in his sinewy arms I grew;
And when upon his warrior breast I laid