Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Holland: Vols. XIV–XV. 1876–79. | | | | Spain: Saragossa (Zaragoza; Sansueña) | | Saragossa | | Lord Byron (1788–1824) |
| | (From Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage)
IS it for this the Spanish maid, aroused, | |
| Hangs on the willow her unstrung guitar, | |
| And, all unsexed, the anlace hath espoused, | |
| Sung the loud song, and dared the deed of war? | |
| And she, whom once the semblance of a scar | 5 |
| Appalled, an owlet’s larum chilled with dread, | |
| Now views the column-scattering bayonet jar, | |
| The falchion flash, and o’er the yet warm dead | |
| Stalks with Minerva’s step where Mars might quake to tread. | |
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| Ye who shall marvel when you hear her tale, | 10 |
| O, had you known her in her softer hour, | |
| Marked her black eye that mocks her coal-black veil, | |
| Heard her light, lively tones in lady’s bower, | |
| Seen her long looks that foil the painter’s power, | |
| Her fairy form, with more than female grace, | 15 |
| Scarce would you deem that Saragoza’s tower | |
| Beheld her smile in Danger’s Gorgon face, | |
| Thin the closed ranks, and lead in Glory’s fearful chase. | |
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| Her lover sinks, she sheds no ill-timed tear; | |
| Her chief is slain, she fills his fatal post; | 20 |
| Her fellows flee, she checks their base career; | |
| The foe retires, she heads the sallying host: | |
| Who can appease like her a lover’s ghost? | |
| Who can avenge so well a leader’s fall? | |
| What maid retrieve when man’s flushed hope is lost? | 25 |
| Who hang so fiercely on the flying Gaul, | |
| Foiled by a woman’s hand, before a battered wall? | | | | |
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