110
KONRAD WALLENROD.
BALLAD.
Low lie the forts of the vanquished Moor;
He groans' neath the chains of the conqueror.
Grenada's regal citadel
Fiercely beleaguered, holds out still,
But the plague is raging there.
In Alpuhara's towers, a band
With the brave Almanzor still keep their stand;
But the Spanish colours wave below,
And by dawn of day, the leaguering foe
For a last assault prepare.
At sunrise the cannons bombard the town,
The ram parts give way, the walls fall down;
Already the cross of Spain is set
High on each Moorish minaret—
The castle is forced and won.
