To arms, to arms, my captains!
Sound, clarions; trumpets, blow;
And let the thundering kettle-drum
Give challenge to the foe.
THE LOVES OF BOABDIL AND VINDARAJA
Where Antequera's city stands, upon the southern plain,
The captive Vindaraja sits and mourns her lot in vain.
While Chico, proud Granada's King, nor night nor day can rest,
For of all the Moorish ladies Vindaraja he loves best;