Classic Poem

Plundering , and dreadful, and dark as a storm,
Abdalla conducteth the Saracen swarm
To the African land,
Till soon before Tripoli's turrets they stand.

But ere they beleaguer a bastion or post,
The Stadtholder Gregory comes with his host;
With sword and with lance,
Victorious he comes from the walls of Byzance.

And while the fanatical foe he doth dare,
Beside him there rideth with gold-flowing hair,
Her spear flashing bright,
His beautiful daughter in armour bedight.

The maiden had chosen a manly career,
She shot with the arrow, she brandished the spear;
In the battle's alarms
She was Pallas, but still Cytherea in charms.

Her father rose proudly, and looking around,
His words 'mid the brave-hearted cohorts resound,
“No longer delay,
My men, but away!—'gainst Abdalla away!

“And he who shall bring me the the Infidel's head,
This day my fair daughter Maria shall wed—
A prize for the bold!
And with her an unmeasured treasure of gold!”

Then the might of the Christian was doubled that day,
Then the strength of the Mussulman vanished away;
E'en Abdalla the brave
In his tent shunned the jaws of an imminent grave.

There fought in the army a Mussulman Knight—
Zobir, like the lightning-flash, dashed through the fight;
Forth rode he in wrath,
As the blood from his quick-clinking spurs marked his path.

He reached his commander, and spoke: “Dost thou deem,
Abdalla, the battle is over? Dost dream
In thy tent out of view?
And shall then the world the great Caliph subdue?

“Let us do in return what the Christian has done,
Let us win in the way that the Christian has won
Be artful and bold;
Promise all, e'en the measureless treasure of gold.

“To thy army this word of encouragement say:
‘Whoever the hostile commander shall slay,
In return for his head,
This day the most beauteous Maria shall wed.’”

So acted Abdalla with quick-seeing thought,
With valour redoubled his Saracens fought—
Zobir at their head:
'Neath his scimitar Gregory quickly lay dead.

Then fled to the city the Christians in fear,
Then followed the Victors in headlong career;
Then the wall's castles four
The flag of the Prophet triumphantly bore.

Long struggled Maria with grief and disdain,
Till, circled by numbers, at length she was ta'en;
As the crowd round her swept,
She was born to the valiant Zobir, and she wept.

And one of the crowd, gathered round in surprise,
Said, “We bring thee the sweetest, the loveliest prize
Ever seen among men,
For fighting and conquering with us Saracen!”

But answered he quickly, with frowning contempt,
“Who dareth a true manly bosom to tempt?—
Or this snare spreads for me?
I fought for my God and his holy Decree!

“Christian woman! I woo not, or wed not with thee;
But, ere I release thee, what wouldst thou from me?”
Then she said with a tear—
“To weep for my father, and hate thee, Zobir!”