"For in the widest prison-house is misery to me,
And the stoutest heart is broke unless the warrior's arm be free."



BAZA REVISITED

Brave Celin came, the valiant son of him the _castelain_
Of the fortress of Alora and Alhama's windy plain.
He came to see great Baza, where he in former days
Had won from Zara's father that aged warrior's praise.
The Moor gazed on that fortress strong, the towers all desolate,
The castle high that touched the sky, the rampart and the gate.
The ruined hold he greeted, it seemed its native land,
For there his bliss had been complete while Zara held his hand.
And Fortune's cruel fickleness he furiously reviled,
For his heart sent madness to his brain and all his words were wild.
"O goddess who controllest on earth our human fate,
How is it I offend thee, that my life is desolate?
Ah! many were the triumphs that from Zara's hands I bore,
When in the joust or in the dance she smiled on me of yore.
And now, while equal fortune incessantly I chase,
Naught can I gather from thy hand but disaster and disgrace.
Since King Fernando brought his host fair Baza to blockade,
My lot has been a wretched lot of anguish unalloyed.
Yet was Fernando kind to me with all his kingly art,
He won my body to his arms, he could not win my heart."
While thus he spoke the mantle that he wore he cast away;
'Twas green, 'twas striped with red and white, 'twas lined with dismal
gray.