"And let me slumber in the soil
Which gave my fathers birth;
I have closed my day of battle-toil,
And my course is done on earth."
—*[1] Now wave, ye stately banners, wave!
Through the lattice a wind sweeps by,
And the arms o'er the death-bed of the brave
Send forth a hollow sigh.
Now wave, ye banners of many a fight,
As the fresh wind o'er you sweeps;
—The wind and the banners fall hush'd as night;
The Campeador—he sleeps!
Sound the battle-horn on the breeze of morn,
And swell out the trumpet's blast!
Till the notes prevail o'er the voice of wail,
For the noble Cid hath pass’d.
- ↑ * See the Spanish Ballad, "Banderas antiquas, tristes, &c."
