Our highest prowess was of no avail,
Gay conquest crown'd the hardy Saracine;
How did each faithful Christian weep and wail!
To see the crescent in full splendour shine,
Exalted high above the cross divine,
Our yielding squadrons fled on every fide;
Nought could resist impetuous Saladine,
Still did he rage with unremitting pride,
And still with slaughters new he swell'd the crimson tide.