Chapter IV

"The Moors have ta'en their vantage-ground,
The volleys thunder fast--
The dark defile is blazing
Like a heated oven-blast;
The lion hears the strange turmoil,
And leaves his mangled prey--
No place was that for him to feed;
And thick and loud the cries,
Feu!--Allah! Allah!--En avant!
In mingled discord rise;
The Franks have reached the summit--
They have won the victory!"