VIII.

“Oh, Madrileños, generous, dauntless hearts, Who fell upon that glorious May-lit morn, Vain is the tear that from the eye-lid starts At thought of death-wounds all heroic borne, For Freedom’s blazon doth your biers adorn! Your blood more potent than Hyantian seed Sprung arméd men still fiercer death to scorn Than Thebæ saw. Incomparable deed! Ye braved the Lion’s roar--your wounds Iberia freed.