XXXV.

Oh, lovely Spain! renowned, romantic Land! Where is that standard[58] which Pelagio bore,[bu] When Cava's traitor-sire first called the band That dyed thy mountain streams with Gothic gore?[7.B.] Where are those bloody Banners which of yore Waved o'er thy sons, victorious to the gale, And drove at last the spoilers to their shore?[59] Red gleamed the Cross, and waned the Crescent pale,[bv] While Afric's echoes thrilled with Moorish matrons' wail.