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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538050" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Death Of Aliatar</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">FROM THE SPANISH.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'Tis not with gilded sabres<br>That gleam in baldricks blue,<br>Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez,<br>Of gay and gaudy hue--<br>But, habited in mourning weeds,<br>Come marching from afar,<br>By four and four, the valiant men<br>Who fought with Aliatar.<br>All mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The banner of the Phenix,<br>The flag that loved the sky,<br>That scarce the wind dared wanton with,<br>It flew so proud and high--<br>Now leaves its place in battle-field,<br>And sweeps the ground in grief,<br>The bearer drags its glorious folds<br>Behind the fallen chief,<br>As mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Brave Aliatar led forward<br>A hundred Moors to go<br>To where his brother held Motril<br>Against the leaguering foe.<br>On horseback went the gallant Moor,<br>That gallant band to lead;<br>And now his bier is at the gate,<br>From whence he pricked his steed.<br>While mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The knights of the Grand Master<br>In crowded ambush lay;<br>They rushed upon him where the reeds<br>Were thick beside the way;<br>They smote the valiant Aliatar,<br>They smote the warrior dead,<br>And broken, but not beaten, were<br>The gallant ranks he led.<br>Now mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! what was Zayda's sorrow,<br>How passionate her cries!<br>Her lover's wounds streamed not more free<br>Than that poor maiden's eyes.<br>Say, Love--for didst thou see her tears:<br>Oh, no! he drew more tight<br>The blinding fillet o'er his lids<br>To spare his eyes the sight.<br>While mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor Zayda weeps him only,<br>But all that dwell between<br>The great Alhambra's palace walls<br>And springs of Albaicin.<br>The ladies weep the flower of knights,<br>The brave the bravest here;<br>The people weep a champion,<br>The Alcaydes a noble peer.<br>While mournfully and slowly<br>The afflicted warriors come,<br>To the deep wail of the trumpet,<br>And beat of muffled drum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Cullen+Bryant">William Cullen Bryant</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538050" data-title="The Death Of Aliatar de William Cullen Bryant" data-description="FROM THE SPANISH. 'Tis not with gilded sabres That gleam in baldricks blue, Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez, Of gay and gaudy hue-- But, habited in mourning weeds, Come marching from afar, By four and four, the valiant men Who fought with Alia..."></div> </div> </div>
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