A LEGEND OF MADRID 



Slay him, and with guerdon loaded, 

 And with honours crown'd depart. 



No vain brutish strife he wages. 



Never uselessly he rages, 



And his cunning, as he ages, 

 With his hatred seems to grow ; 



Though he stands amid the cheering. 



Sluggish to the eye appearing, 



Few will venture on the spearing 

 Of so resolute a foe. 



Nina 

 Courage, there is little danger. 



Yonder dull-eyed craven seems 

 Fitter far for stall and manger 



Than for scarf and blade that gleams. 

 Shorter, and of frame less massive, 



Than his comrade lying low, 

 Tame, and cowardly, and passive, — 



He will prove a feebler foe. 

 I have done with doubt and anguish. 

 Fears like dews in sunshine languish. 

 Courage, husband, we shall vanquish. 



Thou art calm and so am I. 



For the rush he has not waited, 

 57 



