Constance De Castile A Poem, in Ten Cantos. By William Sotheby |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. | VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| X. |
 | Constance De Castile |  |
VIII.
“Death meets thee there”—Almanzor cried.“Lead to the lists my plighted bride.”
Each fiercely strode, and wav'd the blade.
Julian leads on the hapless Maid.
Lo! Edward, Pedro, Constance plac'd,
The lists with Crecy's conquerors grac'd;
Mail'd, on fierce steeds, beneath their sight
The rivals arm'd for mortal fight
Invoke the fair Castillian's name,
And couch the spear with deadly aim.
| Constance De Castile | |